s, Northrup became a
prey to whimsical fancies that amused while they hurt.

As the lighted city rose above the coarser elements that formed it, so
the woman, Mary-Clare, towered over other women. Such women as
Kathryn! The bitterness of pain lurked here as, unconsciously,
Northrup went back over the wasted years of misplaced faith.

The sweet human qualities he knew were not lacking in Mary-Clare. They
were simply heightened, brightened.

All this led to but one thing.

Something was bound to happen, and suddenly Northrup decided to go to
King's Forest!

Once this decision was reached he realized that he had been travelling
toward it since the night of his scene with Kathryn. The struggle was
over. He was at rest, and began cheerfully to make preparations. Of
course, he argued, he meant to keep the spirit, if not the letter, of
his agreement with Larry Rivers.

This was not safe reasoning, and he set it aside impatiently.

He waited a few days, deliberating, hoping his mother would return
from a visit she was making at Manly's hospital in the South. When at
the end of a week no word came from her, he packed his grip and set
forth, on foot again, for the Forest.

He did the distance in half the time. His strong, hardened body served
him well and his desire spurred him on.

When he came in sight of the crossroads a vague sense of change struck
him. The roads were better. There was an odd little building near the
yellow house. It was the new school, but of that Northrup had not
heard. From the distance the chapel bell sounded. It did not have that
lost, weird note that used to mark it--there was definiteness about it
that suggested a human hand sending forth a friendly greeting.

"Queer!" muttered Northrup, and then he did a bold thing. He went to
the door of the yellow house and knocked. He had not intended to do
that.

How quiet it was within! But again the welcoming door swayed open, and
for a moment Northrup thought the room was empty, for his eyes were
filled with the late afternoon glow.

It was autumn and the days were growing short.

Then someone spoke. Someone who was eager to greet and hold any chance
visitor. "Come in, Mary-Clare will be back soon. She never stays
long."

At that voice Northrup slammed the door behind him and strode across
the space separating him from Larry Rivers!

Larry sat huddled in the chintz rocker, his crutch on the floor, his
thin, idle hands clasped in his lap. He