far away in a world from which he was excluded. He and Sophie
left her at her father's and he took Sophie home.

Sophie felt that she had done a fair evening's work--not
progress, but progress in sight. ``At least,'' she reflected,
``he's seeing that he isn't in it with Hilda and never can be. I
must hurry her on and get her married to that fool. A pair of
fools!''

Heilig found his mother waiting up for him. As she saw his
expression, anxiety left her face, but cast a deeper shadow over
her heart. She felt his sorrow as keenly as he--she who would
have laid down her life for him gladly.

``Don't lose heart, my big boy,'' she said, patting him on the
shoulder as he bent to kiss her.

At this he dropped down beside her and hid his face in her lap
and cried like the boy-man that he was. ``Ach, Gott, mother, I
love her SO!'' he sobbed.

Her tears fell on the back of his head. Her boy--who had gone so
bravely to work when the father was killed at his machine,
leaving them penniless; her boy-- who had laughed and sung and
whistled and diffused hope and courage and made her feel that the
burden was not a burden but a joy for his strong, young
shoulders.

``Courage, beloved!'' she said. ``Hilda is a good girl. All
will yet be well.'' And she felt it--God would not be God if He