Then followed a knock.
"Dad!" she called, swiftly rising.
Belllounds entered, leaving the door ajar.

The sunlight streamed in.
"Wal, Collie, I see you're bracin' up," he said.
"Oh yes, dad, I'm--I'm all right," she replied, eager to help or comfort him.
The old rancher seemed different from the man of the past months.

The pallor of a great shock, the havoc of spent passion, the agony of terrible hours, showed in his face.

But Old Bill Belllounds had come into his own again--back to the calm, iron pioneer who had lived all events, over whom storm of years had broken, whose great spirit had accepted this crowning catastrophe as it had all the others, who saw his own life clearly, now that its bitterest lesson was told.
"Are you strong enough to bear another shock, my lass, an' bear it now--so to make an end--so to-morrer we can begin anew ?" he asked, with the voice she had not heard for many a day.

It was the voice that told of consideration for her.
"Yes, dad," she replied, going to him.
"Wal, come with me.