e a little gesture of thanks. "I ask nothing more, and may
wait before I urge my suit; but it seems only fair to tell you that my
ranching has not been very profitable lately and my affairs----"

Torrance cut him short. "In these things it is the man that counts the
most, and not the dollars. You will not have to worry over that point, now
you have told me I can trust Hetty to you."

He said a little more on the same subject, and then Clavering went out
with unpleasantly confused sensations through which a feeling of
degradation came uppermost. He had not led an exemplary life, but pride
had kept him clear of certain offences, and he had as yet held his word
sacred when put upon his honour. It was some minutes before he ventured to
join Hetty and Miss Schuyler, who he knew by the sound of the piano were
in the hall.

Hetty sat with her fingers on the keyboard, the soft light of the lamps in
the sconces shining upon her--very pretty, very dainty, an unusual
softness in the eyes. She turned towards Clavering.

"You went in to get it"--touching the music--"just because you heard me
say I would like those songs. A four days' ride, and a blizzard raging on
one of them!" she said.

Clavering looked at her gravely with something in his eyes that puzzled
Miss Schuyler, who had expected a wittily graceful speech.

"You are pleased with them?" he said.

"Yes," said the girl impulsively. "But I feel horribly mean because I sent
you, although, of course, I didn't mean to. It was very kind of you, but
you must not do anything of that kind again."

Clavering, who did not appear quite himself, watched her turn over the
music in silence, for though the last words were spoken quietly, there
was, he and Miss Schuyler fancied, a definite purpose behind them.

"Then, you will sing one of them?" he said.

Hetty touched the keys--there was a difference in her when she sang, for
music was her passion, and as the clear voice thrilled the two who
listened, a flush of exaltation, that was almost spiritual, crept into her
face. Clavering set his lips, and when the last notes sank into the
stillness Miss Schuyler wondered what had brought the faint dampness to
his forehead. She did not know that all that was good in him had revolted
against what he had done, and meant to do, just then, and had almost
gained the mastery. Unfortunately, instead of letting Hetty sing again and
fix Clavering's half-formed resolution, she allowed her distrust