"Choppy," muttered Doctor Ledyard as he sat across the hearth from his
hostess and looked now at her fair, tranquil face and then at the
cheerful fire of hemlock boughs.

"He's always happiest when he's--choppy." Helen Travers smiled. "I wonder
why I take your words as I take your pills, without question?"

"You know what's good for you."

"And so you really think there is no doubt about Dick? He can enter
college this fall?"

"As sure as any man can be. He'll always be a trifle lame probably,
though that will be less noticeable when he learns to forget the cane and
crutch periods; as for his health--it's ripping, for him!"

"How wonderful you have been; what a miracle you have performed. When I
recall----"

"Don't, Helen! It's poor business retracing a hard road unless you go
back to pick something up."

"That's why--I must go back. Doctor Ledyard, I must tell you something!
Now that Dick's semi-exile and mine are to end in the common highway, he
and--you must know why I have done many things--will you listen?"

From under Ledyard's shaggy brows his keen eyes flashed. There had been
a time when he had hoped Helen Travers would love him; he had loved
her since her husband's death, but he had never spoken, for he knew