Alderman Rupert Ames had been attending the protracted meetings of the city council; this, with other business, kept him away from home for a week.  This was the explanation which he gave to his mother when he at last came home.

“Rupert,” she said to him, “you must not worry so.  I see you are sick—­you’re as pale as death now.  Is there anything the matter, my boy?”

Rupert seated himself on the sofa, resting his face in his hands, and looked into the fire.  He was haggard and pale.

“Mother—­yes, mother, something’s the matter but I cannot tell you, I cannot tell you.”

The mother sank beside him.  “Rupert, what is it, are you sick?”

“No, dear mother, I’m not sick—­only at heart.”  He put his arms around her neck and resting his head on her shoulder, began to sob.

It had been a long time since she had seen her boy shed tears.

“Mother,” he sprang to his feet and forced himself to talk, “I must tell you.  The bank has failed and—­and—­I have not always told you of my business transactions, mother.  I now owe more than we are worth in this world.  I have been investing in real estate.  I paid a big price for the Riverside Addition, and the paper I asked you to sign was a mortgage on the farm to secure a loan.  Mother, I thought it was a good investment, and it would have been had the railroad remained, but now property has sunk so low that all we own will not pay my debts.  And the bank has failed also—­O mother!”

“My son, do not carry on like that.  If the worst comes, we still have the farm, haven’t we?”

“You do not understand, mother; our creditors can take that, too.”

Then she also broke down, and at sight of her tears the son gained control of his own feelings, and tried to comfort his mother.  She should never want as long as he had two strong hands with which to work, he assured her.  All would be right in the end.  “What I have done, I can do again, mother; and though if it comes to the worst, it will be hard, I am young yet, and have life before me.”

For an hour they sat on the sofa with their arms around each other, talking and planning; and then when they became silent, the pictures they saw in the glowing coals partook of a log house, a dreary sagebrush plain, and the building of canals and reservoirs.

The worst did come.  They could, perhaps, have retained a part of Ames farm, but they decided to give up everything, pay their debts, and face the world honorably.  So, before Christmas, everything had been cleared up, and Widow Ames was installed in a neat three-roomed house nearer town, for which they paid a monthly rental.

Miss Virginia Wilton was on a visit to her “folks in the East.”  Rupert both longed and feared for her return.  In his letters he had said nothing about the change in his affairs.  He would wait until her return, and then he would explain it fully to her.  He had decided, for her sake, to propose to her the postponement of their marriage until spring.  He would certainly be better prepared then.  It would be a sacrifice on his part, but Virginia would be wise enough to see its advisability.  Yes, they would counsel together, and Virginia’s love would be the power to hold him up.  After all, the world was not so dark with such a girl as Virginia Wilton waiting to become his wife.