“Oh, John, I can’t tell you----” Nannie began; but for response the front door clicked. She sighed and looked down at the money. * * * * * John walked up and down the street for more than half an hour. At the end of this time he met Dr. Hamilton returning from a patient. “Well, Mr. Winter,” the doctor halted and shook hands, “you seem to be wandering around like a lost soul.” “I had a slight headache,” lied John, “and came out to get a little fresh air.” “Good stunt,” approved the doctor. “You lead a pretty sedentary life, and exercise is good for you. How is Mrs. Winter?” “Oh, I think she’s all right now.” John shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Don’t allow anything to worry or excite her, Mr. Winter,” Dr. Hamilton urged earnestly. “Her nerves and heart won’t stand it. Well, good night. I’m going to get a cup of cocoa and go to bed.” “Good night,” answered John. “I think I’ll turn in too.” And he made his way toward home. Letting himself in through the front entrance, John found both living room and dining room dark. “Where’s Mrs. Merwent?” he queried of Katy, who came in after locking the kitchen door and windows. “Why, she done went to bed, Mr. Winter, right after you all went out.” As he ascended the stairs, he saw through the transom of Lucy’s door that her light was burning. He had been sleeping in Jim’s room for some time past, and now made his way toward it. As he was opposite Lucy’s door he heard her call softly. “Why don’t you come in, John?” she asked. He halted and, after a slight hesitation, turned the handle of the lock and entered. Lucy was sitting on the edge of the bed braiding her hair. She smiled pityingly at his troubled face. “I heard you go out,” she said. “I expect you had a disagreeable time, didn’t you? What did she say?” “Why, I had a talk with Nannie,” John parried somewhat uncertainly, “and she has agreed to--to--not to--interfere in the running of the house, and to--well, _you_ know--cut out the kind of things that get on your nerves. I thought that if she would quit worrying you,” he went on rapidly, “that it would be more--more, well, more considerate and--better, not to actually put her out of the house, at least not without any warning.” He rattled the keys in his pocket, avoiding Lucy’s gaze. “Of course if she continues to--to--that is, I mean if you don’t want her at all, we can later gradually--and----” “And you didn’t dare tell her to go?” Lucy sprang to her feet. Her loose hair flowing down from her pale face gave her a ghost-like appearance. “Now, Lucy,” pleaded John, his eyes meeting hers for an instant and then falling, “I really don’t think we ought to----” His voice died away. Lucy gathered up some clothing from the bed and walked past him into the hall. A second later he heard the door of Jim’s room shut and the key turn.