“It’s no use, Nannie,” interrupted John gently, laying his hand on Nannie’s arm, “but thank you, all the same. It’s a comfort that _someone_ still thinks I’m not a brute.” “John,” Lucy spoke steadily, controlling herself with an effort, “be careful what you do. Consider well before you side with my mother against me. I warn you, John--think before you do this.” The last words were imploring. “She is warning you against me, John,” commented Mrs. Merwent, smiling bitterly. “Wherefore all this tragedy, Lucy?” inquired John, returning to his sarcastic manner. “I only ask you to be just to Nannie.” Dimmie looked from one to the other, his lip trembling. Lucy burst into tears and left the room, leading him by the hand. “Now what do you know about that, Nannie?” John’s voice floated out to Lucy as she ascended the stairs. “Poor John,” Nannie answered softly. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d go crazy,” he declared. “I know, John, dear.” “Lucy acts as if her mind was unbalanced,” he went on. “Now you see what _I_ have had to bear. It’s the Merwent characteristic to have a tendency toward melancholia. Lucy’s father--but I won’t talk about my own troubles.” “You’re a brick, Nannie!” John cried emotionally. * * * * * During most of the day Lucy remained in her room reading and talking with Dimmie. Dinner and tea were silent meals. That night, when she undressed Dimmie, she put him in her bed, and then lay down beside him. In about an hour John knocked at the locked door. Lucy took no notice. “Where is the money I gave you the first of the month?” he called from the hall. “It’s in the desk drawer,” Lucy replied. “Here is the key,” and she tossed it through the open transom above the door. In a few minutes Mrs. Merwent tapped at the door. “Good night, Lucy. We’re going to the theatre,” she volunteered. “Hurry up, Nannie. We’ll be late.” John’s voice could be heard as he shouted from the hall beneath. “I’m coming, John,” Nannie responded, not waiting for Lucy’s answer, and she hastened down the stairs. The front door slammed and the house became silent. When she and John returned, Mrs. Merwent stopped again before her daughter’s closed door. “Good night, Lucy,” she called. There was no response. Soon John came up and, finding the door still locked, rapped. There was no sound. “All right. Just as you like,” he growled, and went to Jim’s room to sleep. XXV John and Lucy met the following morning without speaking. Nannie, who had been treating her face with alternate applications of hot water and ice, came down late as usual. She found Lucy in a white linen dress and wide black hat, ready for the street, while Dimmie, who had not been dispatched to kindergarten, wore one of the duck suits with hand embroidered collars that were generally reserved for late afternoons and Sundays. “Why, where are you going, Lucy?” was Nannie’s immediate question. “Why hasn’t Dimmie gone to kindergarten?”