He halted and, after a slight hesitation, turned the handle of the lock and entered. Lucy was sitting on the edge of the bed braiding her hair. She smiled pityingly at his troubled face.
“I heard you go out,” she said. “I expect you had a disagreeable time, didn’t you? What did she say?”
“Why, I had a talk with Nannie,” John parried somewhat uncertainly, “and she has agreed to—to—not to—interfere in the running of the house, and to—well, you know—cut out the kind of things that get on your nerves. I thought that if she would quit worrying you,” he went on rapidly, “that it would be more—more, well, more considerate and—better, not to actually put her out of the house, at least not without any warning.” He rattled the keys in his pocket, avoiding Lucy’s gaze. “Of course if she continues to—to—that is, I mean if you don’t want her at all, we can later gradually—and—”
“And you didn’t dare tell her to go?” Lucy sprang to her feet. Her loose hair flowing down from her pale face gave her a ghostlike appearance.
“Now, Lucy,” pleaded John, his eyes meeting hers for an instant and then falling, “I really don’t think we ought to—” His voice died away.
Lucy gathered up some clothing from the bed and walked past him into the hall. A second later he heard the door of Jim’s room shut and the key turn.
John went twice to the locked door, but did not knock. Finally he went to bed in Lucy’s room. He lay restless for a long time. Once he imagined he could hear Lucy sobbing, and at length he rose to investigate. He could distinguish nothing but Nannie’s gentle snoring, and returned to bed.
After midnight he fell into a sound sleep.
XXX
When John awoke it was late and he hastened to dress. On reaching the lower hall he found the front door open. Mrs. Merwent stood on the porch staring up and down the street.
“Where in the world is Lucy?” she began. “I heard her go to Mr. Sprague’s room last night, but the door was open this morning when I went past to go down to the kitchen.”
John had a frightened expression.
“She must have gone out for an early walk,” suggested Nannie, after a minute’s time. “She used to do such things often when she was a girl, whenever she got angry.”
“It looks like it was going to rain, too,” commented John worriedly.
He reentered the hall and took his hat from the stand.
“Did you have a quarrel last night?” Nannie catechised in a matter of fact way.
“No,” he denied shortly.
“Well, come on in, John. Don’t go out now. Wait a minute.” He had made a motion toward the door. “Eat something first. She’ll probably be back before we finish.”
He hesitated, turning his hat in his hands.
“Come on,” she coaxed. “There’s nothing to worry about.” Then, as he vacillated, she caught hold of his arm. “I’ll give you some coffee right away. The waffles won’t be fit to eat if you let them get cold, and Katy has already put them on the table. You can go and look for Lucy afterwards. She’s not gone far.”
As they turned to go in Dimmie appeared on the stairs in his night clothes.
“I want my breakfast,” he clamored. “Where’s Mamma? She ain’t in her room.”
“Mamma will be back in a little while, Jimmie,” said Mrs. Merwent soothingly. “Come on and I’ll give you your breakfast.”
Lucy was in the train bound for the city.
She sat staring straight before her at the back of the next car seat. There were very few people going to town so early, and no one was seated beside her. Her lips moved as the train sped on.
“Jim is the only one,” she repeated over and over.
She was, if possible, paler than ever, and her eyes shone with a peculiar light.
At the station she boarded an electric car that passed the apartment house where Jim lived. She and John had been there several times together. In front of her sat a little boy in a wide sailor hat, and on the same seat was a middle-aged woman. The boy evinced all a child’s interest in his surroundings, and at length, turning around, wriggled to his knees and smiled up into Lucy’s face. His blue eyes, bobbed hair, and fresh color really suggested Dimmie, and to Lucy, in her overwrought state, the resemblance was startling.
“I can’t! Oh, I can’t do it!” she murmured passionately, to the child’s intense surprise.
His eyes opened wide and he stopped smiling, half frightened as she bent over and kissed his cheek. The middle-aged woman jerked him back into the seat and scrutinized Lucy suspiciously. Lucy rang the bell and descended from the car at the next corner.
“I’ll go back! I’ll go back!” she whimpered, as a punished child submits to an angry parent.
It had begun to drizzle. She was unmindful of the rain falling on her hat and of her bedraggled skirts. Tears rolled down her cheeks and fell with the rain drops to the pavement. She walked unsteadily and her breast heaved. Reaching the station she took the next train to Rosedene.
Midway between the station and the house she met John, who was striding along quickly, and anxiously scanning the street up and down.
“Where in the world have you been, Lucy? I’ve been worried almost crazy!” he exclaimed pettishly, coming up to her.
Staring straight before her, she did not answer or pause. John followed her to the house, glancing furtively, from time to time, at her immobile profile.
“Lucy! What in the world do you go out without telling anybody for?” cried Nannie who had been waiting in the hall. “It’s been raining, too. John and I were nervous about you.”
Without replying, Lucy proceeded upstairs. Dimmie ran through the upper hall to meet her.
“Hello, Mamma!” he called. “I thought you’d runned away. Nannie dressed me.”
Lucy caught him in her arms and went into her room, locking
