Jim stared at the closed door for several minutes. At last he sat down slowly at his desk. He covered his face with his hands and began to sob. * * * * * Lucy walked the streets and the park until dusk. When she reached home neither John nor Nannie was there. “Dey’s done et deir dinnah. I ’lows dey’s gone to de t’eayter, Miss Lucy,” volunteered Katy. Dimmie was asleep on the sofa in the dining room. Lucy carried him upstairs and undressed him. When the child, whom she but half awakened, had gone to sleep again she lay face downward on the bed and wept until John and Nannie were heard ascending the stairs. * * * * * Lucy did not go to breakfast the next morning. Katy came up with a tray. “I don’t care for any, thank you,” Lucy said through the locked door. When she descended the stairs she was surprised to find John still at home, smoking by the dining room table. Mrs. Merwent was not to be seen. “Aren’t you going to the office?” Lucy inquired of him. “No. I want to talk to you,” he answered. His face was stern and his voice was cold. “Where’s Mother?” “She has gone some place with Miss Powell.” Lucy seated herself by the window. “I came back to the office yesterday evening,” John began. Lucy looked at him. “As I came around the corner I saw you coming out of the building. I went in to see if there were any letters and Jim Sprague was there alone, and, what is more, he seemed very surprised to see me.” “Well?” Lucy’s tone was dull. “I want to know what this means. That’s what I want to know.” His voice grew less controlled as he proceeded. They gazed at each other with hostile faces. Dimmie entered the room. “I’m ready to go to Mrs. Hamilton’s,” he announced. Lucy kissed him, inspected his clothes, and straightened his hat. “Good-bye, little son,” she smiled. “Good-bye, Papa,” Dimmie called as he went out. “Good-bye,” John responded impatiently. “What do you send that boy over to Mrs. Hamilton’s every day for?” he demanded harshly. “To go to kindergarten.” “Kindergarten! There’s no sense in his going to kindergarten in the summer. But if there was, why couldn’t he go from here?” “He could.” “Then what’s the use of bothering your neighbors?” “I send him early so as to get him away from Mother as much as possible,” admitted Lucy. “We’ll discuss that later,” John’s lip curled, “but first I want an explanation of why you went to the office yesterday.” “I shall explain nothing, John,” Lucy answered. “Did you see Jim Sprague?” “Yes, I did.” “Well, didn’t you know I wouldn’t be there?” “I did.” “Then why did you pick out a day when I would be away?” “I wanted to see Jim alone.” “What for?” John’s face grew redder. “I wanted to consult him.” “Alone?” sneered John. “Yes, alone.” “What did you need to consult him about?” John demanded in a more peremptory tone. “That is my own affair, John.”