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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Of course I'll look after the boy in the hospital, Dr. McPherson. I know the short cut to him and he probably can lead me to others, but I want" and here Truedale's eyes grew gloomy "I want you to take with you down to Pine Cone some checks signed in blank.
"In the meantime, let us go out for a walk in the snow. There's enough wind to make it a tussle. Come, dear!" Two days later Lynda came down from her workshop by the back stairs, and passed through William Truedale's bedchamber on the way to the library.
Lynda had somewhat opened Truedale's eyes, but Lynda's love and compassion unconsciously coloured the picture she drew. Here was a hard-headed business man, a man who had been close to William Truedale all his life, proving him now, to his own nephew, as a far-sighted, wise, even patient and merciful friend. Never had Truedale felt so small and humble.
No wonder that she was taken out of herself and broke upon Truedale's astonished gaze as quite a different child from the one Lynda had described. The brilliant little thing came into the hall with Lynda, her arms filled with packages too precious to be consigned to other hands; her eyes were dancing and her voice thrilling with happiness.
There was now no doubt in Truedale's heart concerning Lynda's motive for marrying him; nor did Lynda for one moment question Truedale's deep affection for her. Yet they waited quite subconsciously at first, then with tragic stubbornness for something to sweep obstacles aside without either surrendering his position. "He must want me so that nothing can sway him again," thought Lynda.
There was no doubt in Truedale's mind, now, as to where he would find Lynda. Quietly he went downstairs and into the dim library. The fire was out upon the hearth. The gray ashes gave no sign of life. The ticking of the clock was cruelly loud; and there, beside the low, empty chair, knelt Lynda her white dress falling about her in motionless folds.
Lynda had forgotten Truedale's possible appearance. "I am right tired. It's a mighty long way from Pine Cone. And I was so so frightened, but folks was certainly good and just helped me to here! One old lady came to the door with me." "Why have you come, Nella-Rose?"
It was a perilous moment, for conscience, on Truedale's part, seemed drugged and sleeping and Nella-Rose was awakening to that which she had never known before. Gone, for her, were caprice and mischief; she seemed about to see and hear some wonderful thing that eluded but called her on. And after that first day they met often. "Happened upon each other" was the way Truedale put it.
"No, I've made my choice," he finally exclaimed; "the coming back unsettled me for the moment but her people shall be my people." Below stairs Lynda was humming softly an old tune "The Song of To-morrow," it was called. It caught and held Truedale's imagination. He tried to recall the lines, but only the theme was clear.
And Greyson was suffering as only a man can who, in a rare period of sobriety, views the wrecks of his own making. Ordinarily, as White truly supposed, Peter lied only when he was drunk; but the sheriff could not estimate the vagaries of blood and so, at Truedale's question, the father of Nella-Rose, with the gesture inherited from a time of prosperity, rallied his forces and lied!
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