look seemed to say, "but you had better give it
up at once. It will be of no use for you to try."

And after supper, as Ralph and Bertha sat
talking confidingly with each other at the window,
he sent his daughter a quick, sharp glance,
and then, without ceremony, commanded her to
go to bed. Ralph's heart gave a great thump
within him; not because he feared the old man,
but because his words, as well as his glances,
revealed to him the sad history of these long,
patient years. He doubted no longer that the
love which he had once so ardently desired was
his at last; and he made a silent vow that,
come what might, he would remain faithful.

As he came down to breakfast the next
morning, he found Bertha sitting at the window,
engaged in hemming what appeared to be a
rough kitchen towel. She bent eagerly over
her work, and only a vivid flush upon her cheek
told him that she had noticed his coming. He
took a chair, seated himself opposite her, and
bade her "good-morning." She raised her head,
and showed him a sweet, troubled countenance,
which the early sunlight illumined with a high
spiritual beauty. It reminded him forcibly of
those pale, sweet-faced saints of Fra Angelico,
with whom the frail flesh seems ever on the
point of yielding to the ardent aspirations of