He began to work himself along toward her by help of the piano. A step was heard on the piazza without, and Dr. Morrell entered through the open window. “Come now, Putney,” he said gently. The other men closed round them. Putney stopped. “What's this? Interfering in family matters? You better go home and look after your own wives, if you got any. Get out the way, 'n' you mind your own business, Doc. Morrell. You meddle too much.” His speech was thickening and breaking. “You think science going do everything--evolution! Talk me about evolution! What's evolution done for Hatboro'? 'Volved Gerrish's store. One day of Christianity--real Christianity--Where's that boy? If I get hold of him--” He lunged forward, and Jack Wilmington and young Munger stepped before him. Mrs. Putney had not moved, nor lost the look of sad, passive vigilance which she had worn since her husband reappeared. She pushed the men aside. “Ralph, behave yourself! _Here's_ Winthrop, and we want you to take us home. Come now!” She passed her arm through his, and the boy took his other hand. The action, so full of fearless custom and wonted affection from them both, seemed with her words to operate another total change in his mood. “All right; I'm going, Ellen. Got to say good night Mrs. Munger, that's all.” He managed to get to her, with his wife on his arm and his boy at his side. “Want to thank you for a pleasant evening, Mrs. Munger--want to thank you--” “And _I_ want to thank you _too_, Mrs. Munger,” said Mrs. Putney, with an intensity of bitterness no repetition of the words could give, “It's been a pleasant evening for _me_!” Putney wished to stop and explain, but his wife pulled him away. Dr. Morrell and Annie followed to get them safely into the carriage; he went with them, and when she came back Mrs. Munger was saying: “I will leave it to Mr. Wilmington, or any one, if I'm to blame. It had quite gone out of my head about Mr. Putney. There was plenty of coffee, besides, and if everything that could harm particular persons had to be kept out of the way, society couldn't go on. We ought to consider the greatest good of the greatest number.” She looked round from one to another for support. No one said anything, and Mrs. Munger, trembling on the verge of a collapse, made a direct appeal: “Don't you think so, Mr. Peck?” The minister broke his silence with reluctance. “It's sometimes best to have the effect of error unmistakable. Then we are sure it's error.” Mrs. Munger gave a sob of relief into her handkerchief. “Yes, that's just what I say.” Lyra bent her face on her arm, and Jack Wilmington put his head out of the window where he stood.