“The situation is this,” she began, slowly.  “Ruth and I are not really on good terms and we’ve been perilously near a break several times.  But I’ve restrained my temper and my tongue to avoid one, because I feel I must remain as long as she does.  No, I can’t leave her here alone—­that would be brutal.  And ruinous for her, too.  I’ve thought it all out pretty carefully.  You see, we both agreed to stay when we came, until we agreed to go or had proved up on our claims.  Probably I don’t make myself very clear to you.  I think now that I made a mistake and that neither of us ought ever to have attempted homesteading.  So much has happened that is different from what I anticipated.  Not the existence itself; I don’t mean that.  Other things.  Ruth’s change, chiefly.  See, Lee, I speak frankly, for we’ve usually been frank toward each other.  You two are engaged, but”—­she straightened up in order to meet his eyes—­“she’s treating you abominably and shamelessly.  Ordinarily, I would hold my peace, I’ve held it hitherto, but I can no longer.  Why, I choke sometimes!  Going constantly with Gretzinger, who’s so despicable that he tries to use her as a tool to reach and corrupt you, or Charlie Menocal, who’s your out-and-out enemy, it’s too much for me, Lee.  And uncle and aunt are furious with me for staying.  She listen to me?  Ruth listens neither to me nor any one.”  She rose and came close to Bryant.  “You’re right to marry her immediately.  If you two love each other, that is.”  Her look was penetrating, questioning.  “For she needs a restraining influence.  People in Kennard are talking——­”

“My God!” Bryant cried, hoarsely.  “No, no; not Ruth!  She couldn’t do anything wrong!”

“No, there’s nothing bad.  But she has given grounds for gossip, she and some other girls.  She sees too much of this Gretzinger and Charlie Menocal and men like them; and the time may come when I’ll tremble.  I’ve begged her to be discreet and considerate of your good opinion and love, but she always declares that she’s acting eminently proper.  Lee.”

“Yes.”

“There’s something more.  Gretzinger’s not only finding amusement in her company, he’s in love with her.  After the women he’s been accustomed to in New York, the rouged and jaded type he naturally would know, her freshness and spirits appeal to him.  But you know what sort of man he is—­cynical, unscrupulous, without principles.”

A long time passed before Bryant made a response.  He stood knitting his brows, as if preoccupied.  Imogene wondered if he had been following her at the last.

“I’ll speak to him about his principles in connection with Ruth,” he said.  The utterance was amazingly dispassionate.  Then quite unexpectedly he remarked, “I’ve never yet had to kill a man, never as yet.”

Imogene shuddered, and she was terrified.  It was as if a curtain had been jerked aside disclosing figures grouped for tragedy.

“It must never come to that,” she breathed.