the breach between us. At first I had admired him. I was proud of my
brother. But Solomon in all his glory was dressed in his best; from
Dives to Lazarus is largely a matter of garments. Tim had made himself
just a bit better than I, when he donned his well-fitting suit and
pulled on his silly gloves. Beside him I was a coarse fellow, and to
me he was not the old Tim.

This fine man had come back to the valley to take from me all that made
life good. He had struck me over the heart and stunned me and then
gone singing by. In Mary's eyes he was the better man of the two. To
my eyes he was, and I hated him for it. He could go his way and I
should go mine, for we must stand alone. In the morning he would go
away and leave me with the Tim I loved, with the boy who sat with me at
yonder desk, who raced with me over the ridges, who read with me at the
fireside.

The shadows deepened in the school-room, for a curtain of clouds was
sweeping across the moon. Peering through the window, over the flats,
I saw a light gleaming steadily at the head of the village street. It
was my light burning in the window, and I knew that Tim was there,
waiting for me. All the past rose up to tell me that he was still the
comrade of my school-days, my companion of the hunt, my brother of the
fireside.

My head sank to the table and my hands clasped my eyes to shut out the
blackness. But the blackness came again.