"Mm!--This is socks--oh, such cunning socks--with little turnover cuffs on 'em!" Sue's good-humor was unshaken. "And this is sash ribbon. And this is roller skates." She lifted one package after the other. "And a game. And a white rabbit. And a woolly sheep--it winds up!" She gave it to Hattie. "And a hat--with roses on it! And rompers--I do hope she's not too big for rompers! These are blue, with a white collar. And 'Don Quixote'--fine pictures--it'll keep. And look!"--it was a train of cars. "Isn't it a darling? I could play with it myself! Just observe that smokestack! And--well, she can give it to her first beau. And, behold, a lizard! Its picture is on the box!" She waved it. "Made in the U. S. A.!" Mrs. Balcome had been watching with an expression not so irritable as it was wearied. "You are pathetic!" she said finally. "Simply pathetic!" "Look!" invited Sue, holding up a duck. "It quacks!" But Mrs. Balcome had turned on Hattie, and caught the sheep from her hand. "You!" she scolded; "--for the child of that--that----" Hattie held up a warning finger. "Don't criticize the lady before Wallace," she cautioned. Slowly Wallace straightened, and came about. "Well," he said quietly, "I guess that's the end of it." He went to Sue, holding out a hand. "Sue, I'm going----" "Go to mother, Wallace. I'll see you later." "Hattie! Hattie!" importuned her mother. "Tell him not to go!" "No," said Hattie, firmly. "I was willing to do something wrong--and all this has saved me from it. I've never cared for Wallace the right way. He knows it. I was only marrying him to get away from home." "Hear that!" cried Mrs. Balcome. "No,--you don't love me," agreed Wallace. "I don't believe I've ever loved you," the girl went on; "only--believe me!--I didn't know it till--till I came here." "I understand." Out of a pocket of his vest he took a ring--a narrow chased band of gold. "Will--will you keep this?" he asked. "It was for you." "Some other woman, Wallace, will make you happy." She made no move to take the ring, only backed a step. Quickly Sue put out her hand. "Let me take it, dear brother. And try not to feel too bad." She had on a long coat. She dropped the ring into a pocket. "And, Sue, I want to tell you"--he spoke as if they were alone together--"that I'm ashamed of what I said to you yesterday--that you're quick to think wrong. You're not. And you were right. And you're the best sister a man ever had." "Never mind," comforted Sue. "Never mind." He tried to smile. "This--this is chickens coming home to roost, isn't it?" he asked; turned, fighting against tears, and with a smothered farewell entered the house.