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with the doctor. If there's a chance for Dick, Leslie

should be told of it. There's no two sides to that, in
my opinion."

"Well," said Anne, giving up in despair, "wait until
Miss Cornelia gets after you two men."

"Cornelia'll rake us fore and aft, no doubt," assented
Captain Jim. "You women are lovely critters, Mistress

Blythe, but you're just a mite illogical. You're a
highly eddicated lady and Cornelia isn't, but you're

like as two peas when it comes to that. I dunno's
you're any the worse for it. Logic is a sort of hard,

merciless thing, I reckon. Now, I'll brew a cup of tea
and we'll drink it and talk of pleasant things, jest to

calm our minds a bit."
At least, Captain Jim's tea and conversation calmed

Anne's mind to such an extent that she did not make
Gilbert suffer so acutely on the way home as she had

deliberately intended to do. She did not refer to the
burning question at all, but she chatted amiably of

other matters, and Gilbert understood that he was
forgiven under protest.

"Captain Jim seems very frail and bent this spring.
The winter has aged him," said Anne sadly. "I am

afraid that he will soon be going to seek lost
Margaret. I can't bear to think of it."

"Four Winds won't be the same place when Captain Jim
`sets out to sea,'" agreed Gilbert.

The following evening he went to the house up the
brook. Anne wandered dismally around until his

return.
"Well, what did Leslie say?" she demanded when he came

in.
"Very little. I think she felt rather dazed."

"And is she going to have the operation?"
"She is going to think it over and decide very soon."

Gilbert flung himself wearily into the easy chair
before the fire. He looked tired. It had not been an

easy thing for him to tell Leslie. And the terror that
had sprung into her eyes when the meaning of what he

told her came home to her was not a pleasant thing to
remember. Now, when the die was cast, he was beset

with doubts of his own wisdom.
Anne looked at him remorsefully; then she slipped down

on the rug beside him and laid her glossy red head on
his arm.

"Gilbert, I've been rather hateful over this. I won't
be any more. Please just call me red-headed and

forgive me."
By which Gilbert understood that, no matter what came

of it, there would be no I-told-you-so's. But he was
not wholly comforted. Duty in the abstract is one

thing; duty in the concrete is quite another,
especially when the doer is confronted by a woman's

stricken eyes.
Some instinct made Anne keep away from Leslie for the

next three days. On the third evening Leslie came down
to the little house and told Gilbert that she had made

up her mind; she would take Dick to Montreal and have
the operation.

She was very pale and seemed to have wrapped herself in
her old mantle of aloofness. But her eyes had lost the

look which had haunted Gilbert; they were cold and
bright; and she proceeded to discuss details with him

in a crisp, business-like way. There were plans to be
made and many things to be thought over. When Leslie

had got the information she wanted she went home. Anne
wanted to walk part of the way with her.

"Better not," said Leslie curtly. "Today's rain has
made the ground damp. Good-night."

"Have I lost my friend?" said Anne with a sigh. "If
the operation is successful and Dick Moore finds

himself again Leslie will retreat into some remote
fastness of her soul where none of us can ever find

her."
"Perhaps she will leave him," said Gilbert.

"Leslie would never do that, Gilbert. Her sense of
duty is very strong. She told me once that her

Grandmother West always impressed upon her the fact
that when she assumed any responsibility she must never

shirk it, no matter what the consequences might be.
That is one of her cardinal rules. I suppose it's very

old-fashioned ."
"Don't be bitter, Anne-girl. You know you don't think

it old- fashioned--you know you have the very same idea
of sacredness of assumed responsibilities yourself.

And you are right. Shirking responsibilities is the
curse of our modern life--the secret of all the unrest

and discontent that is seething in the world."
"Thus saith the preacher," mocked Anne. But under the

mockery she felt that he was right; and she was very
sick at heart for Leslie.

A week later Miss Cornelia descended like an avalanche
upon the little house. Gilbert was away and Anne was

compelled to bear the shock of the impact alone.
Miss Cornelia hardly waited to get her hat off before

she began.
"Anne, do you mean to tell me it's true what I've

heard--that Dr. Blythe has told Leslie Dick can be
cured, and that she is going to take him to Montreal to

have him operated on?"
"Yes, it is quite true, Miss Cornelia," said Anne

bravely.
"Well, it's inhuman cruelty, that's what it is," said

Miss Cornelia, violently agitated. "I did think Dr.
Blythe was a decent man. I didn't think he could have

been guilty of this."
"Dr. Blythe thought it was his duty to tell Leslie that

there was a chance for Dick," said Anne with spirit,
"and," she added, loyalty to Gilbert getting the

better of her, "I agree with him."
"Oh, no, you don't, dearie," said Miss Cornelia. "No

person with any bowels of compassion could."
"Captain Jim does."

"Don't quote that old ninny to me," cried Miss
Cornelia. "And I don't care who agrees with him.

Think--THINK what it means to that poor hunted, harried
girl."

"We DO think of it. But Gilbert believes that a doctor
should put the welfare of a patient's mind and body

before all other considerations."
"That's just like a man. But I expected better things

of you, Anne," said Miss Cornelia, more in sorrow than
in wrath; then she proceeded to bombard Anne with

precisely the same arguments with which the latter had
attacked Gilbert; and Anne valiantly defended her

husband with the weapons he had used for his own
protection. Long was the fray, but Miss Cornelia made

an end at last.
"It's an iniquitous shame," she declared, almost in

tears. "That's just what it is--an iniquitous shame.
Poor, poor Leslie!"

"Don't you think Dick should be considered a little
too?" pleaded Anne.

"Dick! Dick Moore! HE'S happy enough. He's a better
behaved and more reputable member of society now than

he ever was before.
Why, he was a drunkard and perhaps worse. Are you

going to set him loose again to roar and to devour?"
"He may reform," said poor Anne, beset by foe without

and traitor within.
"Reform your grandmother!" retorted Miss Cornelia.

"Dick Moore got the injuries that left him as he is in
a drunken brawl. He DESERVES his fate. It was sent on

him for a punishment. I don't believe the doctor has
any business to tamper with the visitations of God."

"Nobody knows how Dick was hurt, Miss Cornelia. It may
not have been in a drunken brawl at all. He may have

been waylaid and robbed."
"Pigs MAY whistle, but they've poor mouths for it,"

said Miss Cornelia. "Well, the gist of what you tell
me is that the thing is settled and there's no use in

talking. If that's so I'll hold my tongue. I don't
propose to wear MY teeth out gnawing files. When a

thing has to be I give in to it. But I like to make
mighty sure first that it HAS to be. Now, I'll devote

MY energies to comforting and sustaining Leslie. And
after all," added Miss Cornelia, brightening up

hopefully, "perhaps nothing can be done for Dick."
CHAPTER 31

THE TRUTH MAKES FREE
Leslie, having once made up her mind what to do,

proceeded to do it with characteristicresolution and
speed. House-cleaning must be finished with first,

whatever issues of life and death might await beyond.
The gray house up the brook was put into flawless order

and cleanliness, with Miss Cornelia's ready assistance.
Miss Cornelia, having said her say to Anne, and later

on to Gilbert and Captain Jim--sparing neither of them,
let it be assured--never spoke of the matter to Leslie.

She accepted the fact of Dick's operation, referred to
it when necessary in a business-like way, and ignored

it when it was not. Leslie never attempted to discuss
it. She was very cold and quiet during these beautiful

spring days. She seldom visited Anne, and though she
was invariablycourteous and friendly, that very

courtesy was as an icy barrier between her and the
people of the little house. The old jokes and laughter

and chumminess of common things could not reach her
over it. Anne refused to feel hurt. She knew that

Leslie was in the grip of a hideous dread--a dread
that wrapped her away from all little glimpses of

happiness and hours of pleasure. When one great
passion seizes possession of the soul all other

feelings are crowded aside. Never in all her life had
Leslie Moore shuddered away from the future with more

intolerable terror. But she went forward as
unswervingly in the path she had elected as the martyrs

of old walked their chosen way, knowing the end of it
to be the fiery agony of the stake.

The financial question was settled with greater ease
than Anne had feared. Leslie borrowed the necessary

money from Captain Jim, and, at her insistence, he took
a mortgage on the little farm.

"So that is one thing off the poor girl's mind," Miss
Cornelia told Anne, "and off mine too. Now, if Dick

gets well enough to work again he'll be able to earn
enough to pay the interest on it; and if he doesn't I

know Captain Jim'll manage someway that Leslie won't
have to. He said as much to me. `I'm getting old,

Cornelia,' he said, `and I've no chick or child of my
own. Leslie won't take a gift from a living man, but



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