my tongue and not my heart which spoke."

The insult being atoned, Janice came back. "You said
you would tell me your history."

"But then--that was when I hoped--a fool I was." The
redemptioner paused, and then took a quick step toward
Janice with an eager look on his face and his hand outstretched.
"There is but one woman in the world can gain
the right to hear my sorry tale. May I tell it to you?"

Young and inexperienced as the girl was, the implication
of the question was too obvious for her to miss, and she
replied, "No."

The man dropped his arm and stood quietly for a moment,
then gave a short, abrupt laugh. "Either 't is my lot to
worship clay idols," he said, "or no woman is worth loving."

"Small blame to them for not loving you," rejoined Janice.

"Electing to marry a put like Hennion! There's a husband
of whom to be proud."

"At least he is no indentured servant," retorted the girl,
in her irritation, walking away from the stable. Once through
the garden and in sight of the house, she halted, her attention
attracted by some to-do about the porch. Coming
swiftly forward, it was to discover the squire there, candle in
hand, to light the dismounting of a horseman, and that no less