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Jane Withersteen laughed； and for the first time in many a day she felt a stir of her pulse and warmth in her cheek。
It was a still drowsy summer of afternoon； and the three were sitting in the shade of the wooded knoll that faced the sage…slope Little Fay's brief spell of unhappy longing for her motherthe childish； mystic gloomhad passed； and now where Fay was there were prattle and laughter and glee。 She had emerged Iron sorrow to be the incarnation of joy and loveliness。 She had growl supernaturally sweet and beautiful。 For Jane Withersteen the child was an answer to prayer； a blessing； a possession infinitely more precious than all she had lost。 For Lassiter； Jane divined that little Fay had become a religion。
〃Does oo love my new mower？〃 repeated Fay。
Lassiter's answer to this was a modest and sincere affirmative。
〃Why don't oo marry my new mower an' be my favver？〃
Of the thousands of questions put by little Fay to Lassiter the was the first he had been unable to answer。
〃FayFay； don't ask questions like that；〃 said Jane。
〃Why？〃
〃Because；〃 replied Jane。 And she found it strangely embarrassing to meet the child's gaze。 It seemed to her that Fay's violet eyes looked through her with piercing wisdom。
〃Oo love him； don't oo？〃
〃Dear childrun and play；〃 said Jane； 〃but don't go too far。 Don't go from this little hill。〃
Fay pranced off wildly； joyous over freedom that had not been granted her for weeks。
〃Jane； why are children more sincere than grown…up persons？〃 asked Lassiter。
〃Are they？〃
〃I reckon so。 Little Fay thereshe sees things as they appear on the face。 An Indian does that。 So does a dog。 An' an Indian an' a dog are most of the time right in what they see。 Mebbe a child is always right。〃
〃Well； what does Fay see？〃 asked Jane。
〃I reckon you know。 I wonder what goes on in Fay's mind when she sees part of the truth with the wise eyes of a child； an' wantin' to know more； meets with strange falseness from you？ Wait！ You are false in a way； though you're the best woman I ever knew。 What I want to say is this。 Fay has taken you're pretendin' toto care for me for the thing it looks on the face。 An' her little formin' mind asks questions。 An' the answers she gets are different from the looks of things。 So she'll grow up gradually takin' on that falseness； an' be like the rest of the women； an' men； too。 An' the truth of this falseness to life is proved by your appearin' to love me when you don't。 Things aren't what they seem。〃
〃Lassiter； you're right。 A child should be told the absolute truth。 Butis that possible？ I haven't been able to do it； and all my life I've loved the truth； and I've prided myself upon being truthful。 Maybe that was only egotism。 I'm learning much； my friend。 Some of those blinding scales have fallen from my eyes。 Andand as to caring for you； I think I care a great deal。 How much； how little； I couldn't say。 My heart is almost broken。 Lassiter。 So now is not a good time to judge of affection。 I can still play and be merry with Fay。 I can still dream。 But when I attempt serious thought I'm dazed。 I don't think。 I don't care any more。 I don't pray！。。。Think of that； my friend！ But in spite of my numb feeling I believe I'll rise out of all this dark agony a better woman； with greater love of man and God。 I'm on the rack now； I'm senseless to all but pain； and growing dead to that。 Sooner or later I shall rise out of this stupor。 I'm waiting the hour。〃
〃It'll soon come； Jane；〃 replied Lassiter； soberly。 〃Then I'm afraid for you。 Years are terrible things； an' for years you've been bound。 Habit of years is strong as life itself。 Somehow； though； I believe as youthat you'll come out of it all a finer woman。 I'm waitin'； too。 An' I'm wonderin'I reckon； Jane； that marriage between us is out of all human reason？〃
〃Lassiter！。。。My dear friend！。。。It's impossible for us to marry！〃
〃Whyas Fay says？〃 inquired Lassiter； with gentle persistence。
〃Why！ I never thought why。 But it's not possible。 I am Jane； daughter of Withersteen。 My father would rise out of his grave。 I'm of Mormon birth。 I'm being broken。 But I'm still a Mormon woman。 And youyou are Lassiter！〃
〃Mebbe I'm not so much Lassiter as I used to be。〃
〃What was it you said？ Habit of years is strong as life itself！ You can't change the one habitthe purpose of your life。 For you still pack those black guns！ You still nurse your passion for blood。〃
A smile； like a shadow； flickered across his face。
〃No。〃
〃Lassiter； I lied to you。 But I beg of youdon't you lie to me。 I've great respect for you。 I believe you're softened toward most； perhaps all； my people exceptBut when I speak of your purpose； your hate； your guns； I have only him in mind。 I don't believe you've changed。〃
For answer he unbuckled the heavy cartridge…belt； and laid it with the heavy； swing gun…sheaths in her lap。
〃Lassiter！〃 Jane whispered； as she gazed from him to the black； cold guns。 Without them he appeared shorn of strength； defenseless； a smaller man。 Was she Delilah？ Swiftly； conscious of only one motiverefusal to see this man called craven by his enemiesshe rose； and with blundering fingers buckled the belt round his waist where it belonged。
〃Lassiter； I am a coward。〃
〃Come with me out of Utahwhere I can put away my guns an' be a man；〃 he said。 〃I reckon I'll prove it to you then！ Come！ You've got Black Star back； an' Night an' Bells。 Let's take the racers an' little Fay； en' race out of Utah。 The hosses an' the child are all you have left。 Come！〃
〃No； no； Lassiter。 I'll never leave Utah。 What would I do in the world with my broken fortunes and my broken heart？ Ill never leave these purple slopes I love so well。〃
〃I reckon I ought to've knowed that。 Presently you'll be livin' down here in a hovel； en' presently Jane Withersteen will be a memory。 I only wanted to have a chance to show you how a manany mancan be better 'n he was。 If we left Utah I could proveI reckon I could prove this thing you call love。 It's strange； an' hell an' heaven at once； Jane Withersteen。 'Pears to me that you've thrown away your big heart on lovelove of religion an' duty an' churchmen； an' riders an' poor families an' poor children！ Yet you can't see what love ishow it changes a person！。。。Listen； an' in tellin' you Milly Erne's story I'll show you how love changed her。
〃Milly an' me was children when our family moved from Missouri to Texas； an' we growed up in Texas ways same as if we'd been born there。 We had been poor； an' there we prospered。 In time the little village where we went became a town； an' strangers an' new families kept movin' in。 Milly was the belle them days。 I can see her now； a little girl no bigger 'n a bird； an' as pretty。 She had the finest eyes； dark blue…black when she was excited； an' beautiful all the time。 You remember Milly's eyes！ An' she had light…brown hair with streaks of gold； an' a mouth that every feller wanted to kiss。
〃An' about the time Milly was the prettiest an' the sweetest； along came a young minister who began to ride some of a race with the other fellers for Milly。 An' he won。 Milly had always been strong on religion； an' when she met Frank Erne she went in heart an' soul for