"Cossy," she said, "you remember how it is there to Luke's folks' house--everybody scolding and jawing. And I know I'll be just like 'em. And it kind of seems as if, if I could stay here, where it's still and decent and good-natured, it might make some difference--to _it_." On the morning that the message came to her, Mrs. Carney had come into Mr. Ember's workroom. Mr. Ember was out. A small portrait exhibit was being made at one of the galleries and, having promised, he had gone off savagely to see it on the exhibit's last day. It was then that Mrs. Bingy telephoned, in spasms of excitement over the telegram. Luke's mother had fallen and hurt her hip. Lena must come home. "And, Cossy!" Mrs. Bingy shouted, "Lena thought--Lena wondered--Lena wants you should go with her." I understood. Lena dreaded to face that household after her absence, even though she was returning with her precious work. "I'll go," I told her; "I'll be there in an hour." When I turned, Mrs. Carney sat leaning a little toward me, with an expression in her face that I did not know. "Cosma," she said, "I want to tell you something--while John Ember is away. I have wanted you to know." She had beautifully colored, and she was intensely grave. "I've taken it for granted, dear," she said, "that you must know that I love him." I stood staring down at her. "Mr. Ember?" I said, "Why, no! No!" "Well, neither does he know," she said, "and I do not mean that he ever shall. I should of course be ashamed of loving Mr. Carney." "Then why--why--" I began and stopped. "Why do we keep on living together?" she asked. "I haven't the courage. And I have no property. And I have no way to earn my living--now. Cosma--I'm caught, bound. To love John Ember has made life bearable to me. Can you understand?" Then she kissed me. "Cosma!" she said, "I'm glad that you know. I've wanted you to know. For I was afraid that you had guessed, and that it might make a difference to you ... when he tells you." "Tells me...." I repeated. "Tells me...." The blood came beating in my face and in my throat. Seeing this, she spoke on quietly about herself. We were sitting so when Mr. Ember came home. And I was struck by the exquisite dignity and beauty of her manner to him. She was like some one looking at him from some near-by plane, knowing that she might not touch him or speak to him--not because it was forbidden, but because they themselves were the law. Then I looked at him, and I saw that he was looking at me strangely. There was a curious searching, meditative quality in his look which somehow terrified me. I sprang up. "Mr. Ember," I said, "they want me to go home--there has been a telegram to a friend. I want to go with her. She needs me...." "Where is 'home'?" he asked only. "In the country," I answered, and had on my wraps and was at the door, "I'll be back to-morrow," I told him. Mrs. Carney had risen. "Cosma!" she said clearly. "Wait. I'll drive you home."