"I didn't say anything about her affliction." Ann stared half fearfully into his honest face.
"But I know you well enough to see that's what you are driving at." King sat down beside her, and for a moment rested his hand on her shoulder. "But it's got to end. It shall not go on. I am talking to you, Aunt Ann, with the voice of the New Thought that is sweeping the face of the world to-day—only that mountain in the east and that one in the west have dammed its flow and kept it from this benighted valley. I did not intend yet to tell you the great overwhelming secret of my life, but I want to do it to-night. You love me as a son. I know that, and I love you as a mother. You are in a corner—in the tightest place you've ever been in in all your life. I'm going to ask you to do something for my sake that will tear your very soul out by the roots. You'll have to grant my wish or refuse—if you refuse, I shall be miserable for life."
"Luke, what's the matter with you?" Ann shook his hand from its resting-place on his shoulder, and with bated breath leaned towards him.
King was silent for a moment, his brows drawn together, his head lowered, his strong, manly hands clasped between his knees. A buggy passed along the road. In it sat Fred Masters and another man. Both were smoking and talking loudly.
"Well, listen, and don't break in, Aunt Ann," King said, in a calm, steady voice. "I'm going to tell you something you don't yet know. I'm going to tell you of my first and only great love."
"Oh, is that it?" Ann took a deep breath of relief. "You've been roped in down there already, eh? Well, I thought that would come, my boy, with the papers full of you and your work."
"Wait, I told you not to break in," he said. "I don't believe I'm a shallow man. To me the right kind of love is as eternal as the stars, and every bit as majestic. Mine, Aunt Ann, began years ago, here in the mountains, on the banks of these streams, in the shadow of these green hills. I loved her when she was a child. I went far off and met women of all sorts and ranks, and in their blank faces I always saw the soulful features of my child sweetheart. I came back here—here, do you understand, to find her the loveliest full-grown human flower that ever bloomed in God's spiritual sunshine."
"You mean—great God, you mean—? Look here, Luke King." Ann drew her body erect, her eyes were flashing fire. "Don't tell me it is Virginia Hemingway. Don't, don't—"
"That's who it is, and no one else this side of heaven!" he cried, in an impassioned voice. "That's who it is, and if I lose her—if I lose her my life will be a total failure. I could never rise above it, never!"
Their eyes met in a long, steady stare.