“Stand together in what?” John’s voice and manner were increasingly impatient. “You’re the one who has changed. You talk and act as if Nannie were a villainess in a melodrama, and yet you can’t state a single thing she has done. I’m getting about at the end of my forbearance.” “So am I,” echoed Lucy, as though mentioning an unimportant fact. “So far as I can see, Nannie has done absolutely nothing, and you are the one to blame for getting things into this beautiful mess.” John’s voice was like that of a judge, cold and impersonal. Tears sprang to Lucy’s eyes. “Oh, but she _has_, John. I am _not_ to blame. Oh, why can’t you see through her! Look at our home. Look at us. See how _everything_ is changed. Even Jim sees it. He realizes----” Lucy bit her lip. “Yes, that’s probably the great trouble. Jim Sprague is more sympathetic than I am!” “Oh, _don’t_, John,” pleaded Lucy, her eyes darkening. “Yes. Nannie has been unfortunate enough to object to your showing so much interest in him. I had never thought anything about it, but it certainly explains----” Lucy sprang to her feet. “Be careful what you say,” she commanded. “Well, be careful what you do,” he retorted weakly, his eyes falling before hers. Lucy left him standing there. John and Nannie again sat down to dinner alone, talking in low tones. Dimmie came into the room while they were having soup and Nannie lifted her brows to John significantly. “Tell the new servant to give you your dinner out in the kitchen. Your mother’s not coming down,” John told the child. Dimmie hesitated, looking very much disappointed. “Run along. That’s a good boy, Jimmie,” Nannie urged, smiling at him. He turned on his heel and went out. A few minutes later he could be heard ascending the stairs to his mother’s room. “Do you know, John, dear,” said Nannie after the child had gone, “that I sometimes think that Lucy is getting into an abnormal state. She is so melancholy and sensitive.” “It certainly begins to look like it,” admitted John. “If that is true, we must both be patient with her,” added Nannie. John did not reply. “That is one reason I hate so terribly to think of leaving you,” she remarked after a pause. “Leaving us?” John glanced up quickly. “I--I told you how I felt about Professor Walsh’s letter.” Nannie’s voice was unsteady and she stared at her plate. “Nannie!” John leaned forward earnestly and laid his hand on hers where it rested on the table. “I want you to cut that nonsense out! Do you hear me?” Nannie lifted her eyes. “But, John----” she began. “Don’t you ever talk of leaving us,” he interrupted. “It’s as you say. Lucy is in an abnormal state. She needs you to put some sanity into her. This is your home for as long as you will--for as long as you live----” John’s voice broke. Nannie smiled uneasily. The two gazed at one another in silence. “Thank you, dear John,” said Nannie, averting her face. John withdrew his hand. There was another long pause.