at her with eyes that spoke eloquently.

"Is this thy nest, thou pretty songbird?" he said. "Had I known, I
should scarce have dared to invade it so boldly."

Gertrude clung to him with an involuntary appeal for protection
that stirred all the manhood within him.

"Ah, Reuben, tell me what it all means!" she cried, "for methinks
that something terrible has happened."

Still holding the little trembling hand in his, Reuben told her of
the peril her brother had been in. He spoke not of Dorcas, not
desiring to pain her more than need be, but he had to say that her
brother was, in a half-drunken state, pursuing some maiden in idle
sport, and that, having been so exposed to contagion, there was
great fear now for him and for his life.

Gertrude listened with pale lips and dilating eyes; her quick
apprehension filled up more of the details than Reuben desired.

"It was Dorcas he was pursuing," she cried, recoiling and putting
up her hands to her face; "I know it! I know it! O wretched boy!
why does he cover us with shame like this? I marvel that thou canst
look kindly upon me, Reuben. Am I not his most unhappy sister?"

"Thou art the sweetest, purest maiden my eyes ever beheld,"
answered Reuben, his words seeming to leap from his lips against
his own will. Then commanding himself, he added more quietly, "But
he is like to be punished for his sins, and it may be the lesson