At last Allison knew the meaning of the great light that seemed to glow upon all the world of the Deep Heart hills.  
Instinct awoke in her and she the face of love.
 
The knowledge set her trembling to her soul’s foundation, sent her to her knees beside her big bed that she might return to that high Tribunal which arbited her ways such a deep devotion of thanksgiving as she had never made before.
 
seized her.
 
What was she in her loneliness and poverty, that such a man as Brand Fair might find her ?
 
What had she ever done of that one might admire her?
 
There was no light of deeds upon her life, no record of spectacular events in which she figured.
 
She had merely been a , working out her soul to carry on her father’s dreams of empire, to hold fast the place which he had left to her and hers.
 
She had only and stood firm, watching with eyes the fruits of those being destroyed—she had made no effort to strike back at her enemies.
 
And despite all this, Brand Fair loved her!
 
Loved her and had laid his lips to hers in the first love-kiss of her life!
 
Verily was she blessed beyond all reason and she lifted up her heart in praise.
 
She did not see the beauty of that stern strength which held her true in the midst of affliction, which lifted those patient blue eyes of hers to the Heavens above her ruined fields, her burned stacks, which made her love her lonely land, her people and her God with unshaken devotion, which gave her peace in danger and set before her the burning of right which could not fail to triumph.
 
She only knew that she, in an unfriendly , had been anointed of the Lord with unspeakable glory, and she was bowed into the dust with .
 
It was a holy night she spent upon her knees in the soft darkness with her work-hardened hands clasped on the ancient coverlet and the long gold trembling and wet upon her cheeks. It was an offertory, an and a .
 
She felt the hours pass with .
 
Once she looked toward the little window and saw the stars of the after-night upon the curtain of the sky.
 
She heard the child’s soft breathing in the crib beyond, and at false dawn she heard Old John crow from the rafters.
 
At the first grey light she lifted her face and with a smile at her lips’ corners she murmured the ancient words of David’s thanksgiving:
 
“The King shall joy in Thy strength, Oh, Lord; and in Thy how greatly shall he rejoice! For Thou hast made him most blessed forever; Thou hast made him exceeding glad with Thy . Thou hast given him the desire of his heart. Selah.”
 
“Mammy,” she said at breakfast, “I’ve got to tell you something—you and Bud.”
 
There was a soft radiance about her long blue eyes, a helpless surrender to the smiles that would keep coming on her features.
 
Her mother looked at her calmly.
 
“Well?” she said.
 
But over Bud’s young face there passed a of pain.
 
“You needn’t tell it,” he said sharply, “we know—don’t we, Mammy? It’s Brand——”
 
“Sure, we know, Nance, honey,” said Mrs. Allison gently, “an’ we want to tell you, Bud an’ I, how happy we are—how glad we are to see happiness come to the best daughter, the best sister, two people ever had on this here earth. Ain’t we, ?”
 
The boy swallowed once, then looked at Nance and smiled.
 
It was not the least courageous thing he was ever to accomplish, that smile, and his mother knew it, for he adored the girl, and she had been his only playmate all his life.
 
But at his mother’s subtle words died and love stepped back .
 
“We sure are, Sis,” he said and kissed her on the cheek.
 
The child slept late that morning. Perhaps he had been more or less disturbed by Nance’s wakefulness. She stepped to the bedroom door once and looked at him, but left him there.
 
“We might as well sit down,” she said, “he’s fast asleep yet and I can feed him when he does get up.”
 
They talked all through the meal, reviewing the wonder that had come to Nance, and it seemed a new future was opening before them all.
 
“Brand seems like one of us already,” said Mrs. Allison, “an’ I think with joy what a help he’ll be to you an’ Bud—th’ land is rich an’ will keep us all in plenty with a man like him to manage an’ to stand between us an’ Sky Line. An’ he’s like your Pappy was—kind an’ still, a strength an’ a hope for us. If Bud is willin’ we’ll offer him share an’ share.”
 
“Sure,” said the boy decidedly.
 
When he had once capitulated Bud stood firm, wholeheartedly backing his decision.
 
“I just don’t seem able to grasp it all,” said Nance happily, “it seems like our whole life has changed overnight. There is light where darkness was, hope again where I’d about given it up—and now we’ll never have to give up Sonny.”
 
“That’s so!” cried Mrs. Allison, “an’ I hadn’t thought of that. Never seemed like we would any way—bless him.”
 
“Me?” asked a fresh little voice from the , and the child stood there, rumple-headed, in his small night-gown made from flour-sacks. The faded red lettering still stood out across his stomach.
 
“Yes—you,” said Nance, “come here to your own Nance.”
 
Sonny sidled in, holding up the hindering garment with one hand, the other shut over some small article.
 
As Nance lifted him to her lap he laid this on the table’s edge.
 
“See,” he said, “the pretty lady. She was in a bundle on your bed—where’d you get her, Nance?”
 
And Nance Allison looked down into the pictured face of—Cattle Kate Cathrew.
 
For a moment the laughter still drew her lips, the soft light of happiness still illumined her eyes.
 
Then the light and the laughter were from her features as if an invisible hand had wiped them.
 
In their place came first a blankness, an incredulity—then, as and memory struck home to her brain, the of death itself swept across her face.
 
She stared with pupils at the small picture.
 
“Nance!” cried her mother, “Nance!”
 
She raised her eyes and looked at Mrs. Allison and the latter felt a chill of fear.
 
“Take—Sonny, Bud,” she said slowly, “and get his clothes.”
 
Bud, tactful and quiet, did as she asked, and when she was alone with her mother the girl held out the picture.
 
“Brand told me—last night,” she said haltingly, “that a package he gave me—to open in case anything happened—to him—held the face of—of—of Sonny’s mother. This is Cattle Kate Cathrew.”
 
“My good Lord A’mighty!” ejaculated Mrs. Allison.
 
Nance nodded.
 
“Then—who’s his—father?”
 
“Who d’you suppose, Mammy?” asked the girl , “I’m afraid it’s Brand—the man who says he loves me!”
 
The gaunt old mother came round the table and put an unaccustomed arm about her daughter’s shoulders. were rare with her.
 
“No,” she said decidedly, “Brand Fair ain’t a deceiver. I’d stake a lot on that. I feel to trust him, honey. Whatever is wrong in this terrible , it ain’t Brand—an’ you can take your old Mammy’s word on that.”
 
The girl straightened her shoulders, lifted her head.
 
“I do trust him, Mammy,” she said , “whatever has happened in the past I know it has not made him a liar—and I feel to be ashamed of myself.”
 
“Needn’t,” said Mrs. Allison , “it’s natural—th’ age-old instinct of jealousy. Come down from our naked ancestors when th’ man was th’ food-getter an’ th’ woman fought with tooth an’ nail if another female hove in sight. You’d like to go right out now an’ scratch that woman’s eyes out, wouldn’t you?”
 
A sickly smile............