"You hate many things that are good and right."

Ellen's brown eyes filled.

"Now, Matthew, it isn't necessary to be as serious as all that!" said Levis. "Come and sit down."

"I think I'll go to bed."

Levis half rose, impelled to cross the room and lay an affectionate, persuasive hand on the boy. But he thought better of it and his face colored with relief at an escape from a possible rebuff. Alas, he knew beforehand all that Matthew was likely to do; he remembered another figure with well-set head and gray eyes that had often regarded him unyieldingly from the doorway.

"Very well, my son. Good-night."

When he had gone, Ellen looked at her father. Levis was for the moment off his guard, his past years were moving before him in review. She said nothing, but she began suddenly to feel a deep and loyal indignation.

Matthew climbed to his room slowly, the spark of regret in his heart quenched before he reached the upper step. He sat down at his window and looked out into the moonlight. He said nothing aloud, but what he said in his heart was this:

"The Lutheran preacher prided himself on his learning with his careful pronunciation and his long, long words. The girls stood gayly dressed in the choir for the young men to look at, and each tried to scream louder than the others. I would not look at one of them. Everything was too rich and too comfortable. Ellen's eyes were like bright, shining cat's eyes. It was immodest to stare the way Ellen did."

His gaze sought the moonlit distance as though he would pierce it through. As clearly as though they were before him he saw the old buildings, the low ceiling, the worshipers with downcast eyes. He drew a deep breath of earth-scented air. The field beside the house had been ploughed, and in the dewy night it exhaled a heavy odor, full of decay yet full of promise. He seemed to see the farmer, his hands on the plough; he saw the forward pull of the shoulders of the heavy bays, the warm dark earth curving from the ploughshare. It was all part of the life for which he longed, for which he was made.