In the chill before the dawning the two stepped down from the train at

a little flag station three miles from Sabbath Valley on the upper road

that ran along the Ridge. They had prevailed upon the conductor to let

them off there. Mark had roused enough for that. And now that they were

out in the open country he seemed to come to himself. He took care of

Lynn, making her take his arm, guiding her into the smooth places,

helping her over rough places. He asked a few questions too. How did

she know of his mother's condition? How long had she been this way? Had

she any idea that his mother's heart was affected? Did she have a

shock?

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Lynn did not tell all she knew. It was hard enough without that. He

need not know that it was the knowledge of his disgrace that had

brought her to the brink of death.

So, walking and talking almost as in the old days, they passed into

Sabbath Valley and down the street, and Christie McMertrie listening

perhaps for this very thing, crept from her bed in her long flannel

night gown, and big ruffled night cap, and looked out the window to see

them go by. "Bless them!" she breathed and crept back to her bed again.

She had nursed all day, and all the night before, and would have been

there too to-night, only Mary Rafferty took things in her own hands and

had her go to bed, herself taking charge. Mrs. Duncannon was there too.

There really was no need of her, but Christie could not sleep, and

after they passed she rose and dressed and slipped down the street with

a hot porridge that had been cooking on the stove all night, and the

makings of a good breakfast in her basket on her arm.

Mark Carter reached home in time to take his mother in his arms and bid

her good-bye. That was all She roused at his voice and touch, and

reached out her little pretty hands toward him. He took her in his big

strong arms and held her, kissed her with tender lips and she drew a

beautiful smile of perfect content, and slipped away, with the graying

golden hair straying out over Mark's sleeve to the pillow in a long

curl, and a quiver of her last smile on the pretty curve of her lips,

as if this was all that she had waited for, the little pretty girl that

had gone to school so long ago with golden hair and a smile. Billy,

standing awed in the doorway whither he had come to say there was more

hot water ready, caught the vision of her face, remembered those school

days, and felt a strange constriction in his throat. Some day Saxy

would have to go like that, and would show the little girl in her face

too, and he maybe would have to hold her so and think of how cross he

had been. Aw Gee! Whattaqueer thing life was anyhow! Well, hadn't his

prayer been answered? Didn't Mark get here in time? Well, anyhow it was

likely better for Mrs. Carter to go. But it was rotten for Mark. Aw

Gee! Mark! Was this the way he had to learn it? Aw Gee! Well,

God would have to show him. He couldn't dope it out anyhow.