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He intended, if time were ever his again, to begin where he had left off when broken health interrupted. In the extension room over William Truedale's bedchamber Lynda carried on her designing and her study; her office, uptown, was reserved for interviews and outside business. Her home workshop had the feminine touch that the other lacked.

The sanatorium for cases such as William Truedale's was already attracting wide attention. The finest men to be obtained were on the staff; specially trained nurses were selected; and Lynda had put her best thought and energy into the furnishing of the small rooms and spacious wards.

He never exacted more. His love was big enough divine enough to accept. Oh! Con, through all the years when I have tried to to do my part, the husband of Nella-Rose has helped me to do it! Nella-Rose never looked back to Ann and me. Having laid the child upon the altar, she trusted." "Yes, that would be her way." Truedale's voice broke a bit.

Like a bit of the mist that the sun burns, so she was purified consumed by the fire of Truedale's remorse and shame. Not for a moment did he let the girl bear a shadow of blame he was done with that forever! but he held himself before the judgment seat of his own soul and he passed sentence upon himself in terms that stern morality has evolved for its own protection.

"I'd like him to put up a bit of a fight as his father did before him." "As his father did not!" Truedale's eyes grew gloomy. "I'm afraid, Lyn, I'm constructed on the modelling plan added to, built up. Some fellows are chiselled out. I wonder about little Billy." "Somehow" Lynda gave a little contented smile "I am not afraid for Billy.

It was November before the rush and hurry of preparation were over and Truedale's play announced. His name did not appear on it so his people were not nerve-torn and desperate. Truedale often was, but he managed to hide the worst and suffer in silence. He had outlived the anguish of seeing his offspring amputated, ripped open, and stuffed.

The unfettered life had clouded his reason, and his senses had played him false, but love was untarnished and it was love. That girl of the hills was the same now as she had always been. She would accept him and his people and he would make her life such that, once the homesickness for the hills was past, she would have no regrets. Then another phase held Truedale's thought.

Should you find a spot better, safer for you than this that we thought we knew, I will never hold you by a look or word, dear." "And you Lyn?" Truedale's voice shook. "For myself I ask the same privilege." "You mean that we live together, yet apart?" "Unless you will it otherwise, dear. In that case, we will close this door and say good-bye, now." Her strength, her tenderness, unmanned Truedale.

And in this decision Lynda left herself so stranded and desolate that she looked up with wet eyes and saw William Truedale's empty chair! A great longing for her old friend rose in her breast a longing that not even death had taken from her.

Are you sorry?" The simple pride and dignity went straight to Truedale's heart. "It's because I want you so, little girl, that I must save you." Somehow Nella-Rose seemed to have lost her fear of the oncoming raiders; she spoke deliberately, and above a whisper: "Save me? from what?" There were no words to convey to her his meaning. Truedale felt almost ashamed to hold it in his own mind.