“Of course you do. You wouldn’t forget Nannie, would you, Jimmie?” Mrs. Merwent put in quickly. “Wait a minute. Wipe your hands first.”
“Poor John!” sympathized Nannie as soon as they were alone. “I could see that you were tired before you spoke of it.”
“Oh, I’m all right,” exclaimed John irritably, at the same time lighting a cigarette.
“I know you never let on, John, but you can always be sure that I understand you, whether anyone else does or not.”
John drummed on the table.
“Let’s go into the sitting room,” suggested Mrs. Merwent, rising as Katy entered to clear the table. “Shall I sing for you?” She passed into the living room and moved toward the piano.
“I don’t believe I’ve got time,” explained John hurriedly. “I’ve got to go out tonight. I ought to catch that next train.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Nannie. “I especially wanted to talk some things over tonight. I got another letter from Professor Walsh,” she added significantly.
“Talk what things over?” John gave her a quick scrutiny.
Mrs. Merwent turned with a surprised air.
“Why, about Lucy principally, John, and—and about what ought to be done.”
“What about Lucy?”
“Well, nothing in particular, but she’s getting all worked up again about the housekeeping, and I thought you might speak to her.”
“Why should I speak to her?” John’s manner was combative. Nannie gazed at him reproachfully.
“Well, you know what you say has more effect on her than what I say. If you would just tell her to leave things to me as they have been, and not go and bother Katy with a lot of counter orders and that sort of thing. It’s pretty hard, John, for me to look after everything and then be interfered with all the time.”
John stood twirling the charm on his watch fob. When he spoke his voice showed embarrassment.
“I think, Nannie, that—that is—that it would be better—if you didn’t try to—to take things out of Lucy’s hands so much.”
Mrs. Merwent’s eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, John, how can you say such a thing when I try so hard, and all I do is for her sake? I’ve never considered myself at all.”
“I know you haven’t, Nannie,” acceded John miserably, “but I’m—I’m in a hard place. I wish you and Lucy didn’t have to—to disagree so much. I’m almost at my wits’ end.”
Nannie studied his perplexed face. Suddenly she seemed to decide something.
“All right, John. I’ll do anything you say,” she promised, wiping her eyes. “I would do anything for you, John. You have been so good to me.”
John remained in an attitude of thought.
“Just try your best to get along without any friction, Nannie,” he begged. “I know it’s hard for you sometimes. Lucy’s peculiar about some things. But I’m about to go dippy with matters as they are, and I want you to help me out.”
“Poor John! Of course I will. If I had my way you would never have a care or a worry.”
“Thank you, Nannie. I knew you would help me all you could. Lucy is in a terribly nervous state and we’ve got to get her out of this silly notion that—that—well, that she’s left out—or she’ll do something foolish.”
“I understand, John. Lucy has always been curious and babyish, but now—” She paused expressively. “There has been so much tragedy in my life, John, and now to see you going through the same thing!”
“I guess you never had anybody to help you out, Nannie.” John’s voice was almost inaudible.
“John—”
“Yes, Nannie. I’ve got to be going, you know.” He moved toward the door.
Nannie linked and unlinked her fingers.
“We do sympathize with and understand each other, John! You know I told you I got another letter from Professor Walsh.”
“Well?”
“Oh, John, if it were anyone but you I would rather die than ask money of them—but the check didn’t come—and—Oh, John, what shall I do?” She began to cry.
“How much do you want, Nannie?”
“Just a little, John. But Lucy always misunderstands things—and I have no one else to go to!”
He took a bill from his pocket and pressed it into her hand.
“But, John!” she protested, glancing at the denomination of the money.
“Cut that out, Nannie!” John’s voice was gruff with emotion. “Some things may happen that I can’t help, but just remember, first, last, and always, that what belongs to me and Lucy belongs to you too, and if she—” He broke off abruptly and strode into the hall.
“Oh, John, I can’t tell you—” Nannie began; but for response the front door clicked.
She sighed and looked down at the money.
John walked up and down the street for more than half an hour. At the end of this time he met Dr. Hamilton returning from a patient.
“Well, Mr. Winter,” the doctor halted and shook hands, “you seem to be wandering around like a lost soul.”
“I had a slight headache,” lied John, “and came out to get a little fresh air.”
“Good stunt,” approved the doctor. “You lead a pretty sedentary life, and exercise is good for you. How is Mrs. Winter?”
“Oh, I think she’s all right now.” John shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Don’t allow anything to worry or excite her, Mr. Winter,” Dr. Hamilton urged earnestly. “Her nerves and heart won’t stand it. Well, good night. I’m going to get a cup of cocoa and go to bed.”
“Good night,” answered John. “I think I’ll turn in too.” And he made his way toward home.
Letting himself in through the front entrance, John found both living room and dining room dark.
“Where’s Mrs. Merwent?” he queried of Katy, who came in after locking the kitchen door and windows.
“Why, she done went to bed, Mr. Winter, right after you all went out.”
As he ascended the stairs, he saw through the transom of Lucy’s door that her light was burning. He had been sleeping in Jim’s room for some time past, and now made his way toward it. As he was opposite Lucy’s door he heard her call softly.
“Why don’t you come in,
