Putney and the doctor began to talk of the nature and origin of evil, and Annie and the boy listened. Putney took high ground, and attributed it to Adam. “You know, Annie,” he explained, “I don't believe this; but I like to get a scientific man that won't quite deny Scripture or the good old Bible premises, and see him suffer. Hello! you up yet, Winthrop? I guess I'll go through the form of carrying you to bed, my son.” When Mrs. Putney rejoined them, Annie said she must go, and Mrs. Putney went upstairs with her, apparently to help her put on her things, but really to have that talk before parting which guest and hostess value above the whole evening's pleasure. She showed Annie the pictures of the little girls that had died, and talked a great deal about their sickness and their loveliness in death. Then they spoke of others, and Mrs. Putney asked Annie if she had seen Lyra Wilmington lately. Annie told of her call with Mrs. Munger, and Mrs. Putney said: “I _like_ Lyra, and I always did. I presume she isn't very happily married; he's too old; there couldn't have been any love on her part. But she would be a better woman than she is if she had children. Ralph says,” added Mrs. Putney, smiling, “that he knows she would be a good mother, she's such a good aunt.” Annie put her two hands impressively on the hands of her friend folded at her waist. “Ellen, what _does_ it mean?” “Nothing more than what you saw, Annie. She must have--or she _will_ have--some one to amuse her; to be at her beck and call; and it's best to have it all in the family, Ralph says.” “But isn't it--doesn't he think it's--odd?” “It makes talk.” They moved a little toward the door, holding each other's hands. “Ellen, I've had a _lovely_ time!” “And so have I, Annie. I thought you'd like to meet Dr. Morrell.” “Oh yes, indeed!” “And I can't tell you what a night this has been for Ralph. He likes you so much, and it isn't often that he has a chance to talk to two such people as you and Dr. Morrell.” “How brilliant he is!” Annie sighed. “Yes, he's a very able man. It's very fortunate for Hatboro' to have such a doctor. He and Ralph are great cronies. I never feel uneasy now when Ralph's out late--I know he's been up at the doctor's office, talking. I--” Annie broke in with a laugh. “I've no doubt Dr. Morrell is all you say, Ellen, but I meant Ralph when I spoke of brilliancy. He has a great future, I'm sure.” Mrs. Putney was silent for a moment. “I'm satisfied with the present, so long as Ralph--” The tears suddenly gushed out of her eyes, and ran down over the fine wrinkles of her plump little cheeks. “Not quite so much loud talking, please,” piped a thin, high voice from a room across the stairs landing. “Why, dear little soul!” cried Annie. “I forgot he'd gone to bed.” “Would you like to see him?” asked his mother.