Eighteen months swiftly passed with the little mother and her boy still in Dr. Mulford\'s sanitarium. She had allowed herself to be persuaded that he had the right to be her guide and helper in the first year\'s training of the child.

The boy had steadily grown in strength and beauty of body and mind. The Doctor persuaded her to spend one more winter basking in his sun-parlor and finishing the final chapters of his book. Her mind was singularly clever and helpful in the interpretation of the experiences and emotions of motherhood.

She had stubbornly resisted every suggestion to see her husband or allow him to see the child. The Doctor had managed twice to give Jim an hour with the baby while she had gone to Asheville on shopping trips. He was rewarded for his trouble in the devotion with which the young father worshiped his son. The Doctor watched the slumbering fires kindle in the man\'s deep blue eyes with increasing wonder at the strength and tenderness of his newfound soul.

Jim had completed the furnishing of the bungalow with the advice and guidance of his friend, and every room stood ready and waiting for its mistress. He had insisted on making every piece of furniture for Mary\'s room and the nursery adjoining. The Doctor was amazed at the mechanical genius he displayed in its construction. He had taken a month\'s instruction at a cabinet maker\'s in Asheville and the bed, bureau, tables and chairs which he had turned out were astonishingly beautiful. Their lines were copied from old models and each piece was a work of art. The iron work was even more tastefully and beautifully wrought. He had toiled day and night with an enthusiasm and patience that gave the physician a new revelation in the possibility of the development of human character.

His friend came at last with a cheering message. He began smilingly:

“I\'m going to make the big fight today, boy, to get her to see you.”

“You think she will?”

“There\'s a good chance. Her savings have all been used up from her bank account in New York. She is determined to go to her father in Kentucky. I\'ll have a talk with her, bring her over to the bungalow, show her through it on the pretext of its model construction and then you can tell her that you built it with your own hands for her and the baby. You might be loafing around the place about that time.”

Jim\'s hand was suddenly lifted.

“I got ye, Doc, I got ye! I\'ll be there—all day.”

“Don\'t let her see you until I give the signal.”

“Caution\'s my name.”

“We\'ll see what happens.”

Jim pressed close.

“Say, Doc, if you know how to pray, I wish you\'d send up a little word for me while you\'re talkin\' to her. Could ye now?”

“I\'ll do my best for you, boy—and I think you\'ve got a chance. She\'s been watching the blue eyes of that baby lately with a rather curious look of unrest.”

“They\'re just like mine, ain\'t they?” Jim broke in with pride.

“Time has softened the old hurt,” the Doctor went on. “The boy may win for you——”

The square jaw came together with a smash.

“Gee—I hope so. I\'ll wait there all day for you and I\'m goin\' to try my own hand at a little prayer or two on the side while I\'m waiting. Maybe God\'ll think He\'s hit me hard enough by this time to give me another trial.”

With a friendly wave of his hand the Doctor hurried home.

He found Mary seated under the rose trellis beside the drive, watching for his coming. The day was still and warm for the end of April. Birds were singing and chattering in every branch and tree. A quail on the top fence-rail of the wheat field called loudly to his mate.

The boy was screaming his joy over a new wagon to which Aunt Abbie had hitched his goat. He drove by in style, lifted his chubby hand to his mother and shouted:

“Dood-by, Doc-ter!”

The Doctor waved a smiling answer, and lapsed into a long silence.

He waked at last from his absorption to notice that Mary was day-dreaming. The fair brow was drawn into deep lines of brooding.

“Why shadows in your eyes a day like this, little mother?” he asked softly.

“Just thinking——”

“About a past that you should forget?”

“Yes and no,” she answered thoughtfully. “I was just thinking in this flood of spring sunlight of the mystery of my love for such a man as the one I married. How could it have been possible to really love him?”

“You are sure that you loved him?”

“Sure.”

“How did you know?”

“By all the signs. I trembled at his footstep. The touch of his hand, the sound of his voice thrilled me. I was drawn by a power that was resistless. I was mad with happiness those wonderful days that preceded our marriage. I was madder still during our honeymoon—until the shadows began to fall that fatal Christmas Eve.” She paused and her lips trembled. “Oh, Doctor, what is love?”

The drooping shoulders of the man bent lower. He picked up a pebble from the ground and flicked it carelessly across the drive, lifted his head at last and asked earnestly:

“Shall I tell you the truth?”

“Yes—your own particular brand, please—the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

“I\'ll try,” he began soberly. “If I were a poet, naturally I would use different language. As I\'m only a prosaic doctor and physiologist I may shock your ideals a little.”

“No matter,” she interrupted. “They couldn\'t well get a harder jolt than they have had already.”

He nodded and went on:

“There are two elemental human forces that maintain life—hunger and love. They are both utterly simple, otherwise they could not be universal. Hunger compels the race to live. Love compels it to reproduce itself. There has never been anything mysterious about either of these forces and there never will be—except in the imagination of sentimentalists.

“Nature begins with hunger. For about thirteen years she first applies this force to the development of the body before she begins to lay the foundation of the second. Until this second development is complete the passion known as love cannot be experienced.

“What is this second development? Very simple again. At the base of the brain of every child there is a vacant space during the first twelve or fifteen years. During the age of twelve to fourteen in girls, thirteen to fifteen in boys, this vacant space is slowly filled by a new lobe of the brain and with its growth comes the consciousness of sex and the development of sex powers.

“This new nerve center becomes on maturity a powerful physical magnet. The moment this magnet comes into contact with an organization which answers its needs, as certain kinds of food answer the needs of hunger, violent desire is excited. If both these magnets should be equally powerful, the disturbance to both will be great. The longer the personal association is continued the more violent becomes this disturbance, until in highly sensitive natures it develops into an obsession which obscures reason and crushes the will.

“The meaning of this impulse is again very simple—the unconscious desire of the male to be a father, of the female to become a mother.”

“And there is but one man on earth who could thus affect me?” Mary asked excitedly.

“Rubbish! There are thousands.”

“Thousands?”

“Literally thousands. The reason you never happen to meet them is purely an accident of our poor social organization. Every woman has thousands of true physical mates if she could only meet them. Every man has thousands of true physical mates if he could only meet them. And in every such meeting, if mind and body are in normal condition, the same violent disturbance would result—whether married or single, free or bound.

“Marriage therefore is not based merely on the passion of love. It is a crime for any man or woman to marry without love. It is the sheerest insanity to believe that this passion within itself is sufficient to justify marriage. All who marry should love. Many love who should not marry.

“The institution of marriage is the great SOCIAL ordinance of the race. Its sanctity and perpetuity are not based on the violence of the passion of love, but something else.”

He paused and listened to the call of the quail again from the field.

“You hear that bob white calling his mate?”

“Yes—and she\'s answering him now very softly. I can hear them both.”

“The............