" throbbed Lola. It was not the stoppage
of her own course, indeed, although this was a misery, but the loss of
trust in all humanity which distrust of Jane seemed to the girl to
inflict upon her. If Jane were not true, none could be; and the
suspicion and unrest rioted back again to the bosom which belief in
Jane and the world had softened and calmed.

There was nothing to do. Lola's father could easily repair Jane's
shortcoming, but not without having an explanation of the facts of the
case. The facts of the case he must never know. Even in her pain and
indignation, Lola never made a question of this.

"Suppose it is true!" thought the girl, suddenly overcome by a new tide
of feeling. "What am I blaming her for? She would never have fixed the
house or bought things for herself! She did it all for me. And although
I would rather have gone to school than have the piano, am I to blame
_tia_ for not knowing this? She never thought where she was coming out.
She just went on and on. And now that there is no more money, she is
frightened and sorry and ashamed. She has done everything for me--even
herself she has fairly made over to please me. Poor _tia_! Oh,
ungrateful that I am to have been thinking unkindly of her!"

Suddenly all the bitterness left her, like an evil thing exorcised by
the first word of pitying tenderness. Tears stole sweetly to her eyes.
Peace came upon her shaken spirit. The day had been full of strange
revelations; and now it showed her how good for the human heart it is
to be able to pity weakness, to love, to forbear and to forgive.

In the strange peacefulness which brooded over her she walked home
between the pinon-sprinkled hills, where doves were crooning and the
far bleating of an upland herd echoed among the barren ridges. She
reflected quietly upon meeting Jane without a hint of any shadow in her
face, but in such sunniness of humor as should gladden and reassure.
And Jane would never dream of the dark hour which had visited her
child. She would never know that any slightest thought, unnurtured in
affection, had risen to cast between them the least passing shadow;
although from Lola's heart might never pass away that little,
inevitable sense of loss which those know whose love survives a
revelation of weakness in one believed to be strong.

As she came in sight of the hollow roof of the Dauntless she saw the
doctor riding toward her.

"Hello!" he said. "What have you been doing up the can