will not misunderstand why I add my prayer to the message your
friends in Logport charged me with. They beg that you will give up
your idea of returning here, and come back to them. Believe me,
you have made yourself loved and respected there, in spite--I beg
pardon--perhaps I should say BECAUSE of your pride. Good-night and
good-bye."

For a single instant she turned her set face to the window with a
sudden convulsive movement, as if she would have called him back,
but at the same moment the opposite door creaked and her brother
slipped into the room. Whether a quick memory of the deserter's
entrance at that door a year ago had crossed her mind, whether
there was some strange suggestion in his mud-stained garments and
weak deprecating smile, or whether it was the outcome of some
desperate struggle within her, there was that in her face that
changed his smile into a frightened cry for pardon, as he ran and
fell on his knees at her feet. But even as he did so her stern
look vanished, and with her arm around him she bent over him and
mingled her tears with his.

"I heard it all, Mag dearest! All! Forgive me! I have been
crazy!--wild!--I will reform!--I will be better! I will never
disgrace you again, Mag! Never, never! I swear it!"

She reached down and kissed him. After a pause, a weak boyish
smile struggled into his face.

"You heard what he said of HER, Mag. Do you think it might be
true?"