THE FORK OF THE ROAD
for you—to help you in some way—that's what I came for,"
"Did you—really?" She looked at him gratefully.
"That—and because I couldn't stay away any longer. All the way up the trail I had a feeling that you had hold of my heartstrings pulling me to you, and as if they would break if I didn't get to you faster. I can't describe it exactly, but it was as real as an actual physical sensation."
She looked her understanding, though she made no response.
When breakfast was over and they had washed the dishes together in a silence which each felt momentous, Kate said finally:
"You'd better tack a shoe on your horse before you go. If you don't know how, I'll show you." He took her hand and looked at her searchingly:
"Is that my answer?"
As she stood with her back against the table she gripped the edge of it tightly.
"I guess it is, Hughie. I've thought it all out and it seems best."
"I can't—I won't believe you mean that!" he exclaimed, passionately.
"But I do. There are many reasons why I can't leave here and do as you ask."
"And," incredulously, "the fact that we love each other doesn't count?" He shook his head. "I must say I don't understand. I didn't know that you were so happy here—"
"Happy!" The color flooded her face as she cried fiercely, "Mostly it's—hell!"
"I don't comprehend at all."
"In the first place, your world and mine are far apart
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