did
her best, all unknowingly, bless her, to kill the last vestige of
manhood in me. And all the time it was crying out, crying out
bitterly. It was growing stronger and stronger, as my physique
remained undeveloped. Finally it became too great to withstand. Then,
when it turned loose, I was without power to check it. My moral
strength was not equal to the tide, and all my passions swayed me
whithersoever they chose. Again I say this is no excuse; it is merely
fact as I see it. I was powerless to resist temptation. The woman who
once looses her hold on her moral nature can never recover herself.
That is nature--her nature--and, by the curse of fate, it is also
mine."

For the moment Bill had no answer. He sat with his eyes averted. All
his affection for his erring brother was uppermost, all his sympathy
and pity. But he dared not display them. All that Charlie had said was
true. His whole appearance was effeminate. He was a man without the
physical support belonging to his sex. As he said, he was left
powerless by nature and upbringing to fight a man's battle on the
plains of moral integrity. His fall had been drink, with its
accompanying vices, and Bill realized now, after five years' absence,
how hopeless his brother's reformation had become. If his love for
this woman could not save him, then surely nothing on earth could. For
Bill, in his simple fashion, believed that such an appeal was above
all in its claims upon any real man.

He groped for something to say, for something that might show Charlie
that his affection remained utterly unaltered, but he had no great
cleverness, and the right thing refused to come to his aid. As the
silence lengthened between them his groping thoughts took their own
course, which led him to the name, "Kate," which the other had used.
He remembered he had heard it that day once before.

"Kate?" he inquired lamely. "Kate--who?"

"Kate Seton."

In an instant Bill's whole attitude underwent a change. He sat up,
and, removing his pipe, dashed the charred ashes from its bowl.

"Why, that's the sister of--Helen Seton."

Charlie nodded, his eyes lighting with a sharp question.

"Sure. But--you don't know--Helen?"

Bill's face beamed.

"Met her on the trail," he cried triumphantly. "No end of a pretty
girl. Gray eyes and fair hair. Might have been walking on Broadway,
New York--from her style. Fyles told me about her."

"Fyles?"

Charlie's eyes suddenly darkened with resentmen