Lucy lay down on the bed, her face turned away from him. No more words passed between them and soon John, at least, was sleeping. XVI The morning following Jim’s visit it was raining. Dismal little rivers trickled along the eaves of the houses and Dimmie, kneeling in an arm chair by the dining room window, flattened his nose against the glass and regarded disconsolately the damp length of the rope swing that trailed from the elm tree. It swayed gently in the wind and its motion suggested many tantalizing possibilities to the small prisoner. “Don’t mash your nose like that! You’ll get it all out of shape,” Nannie called to him, She had been eating her breakfast in mournful solitude. It was late and John had long ago gone to catch his train and Lucy was busy in the kitchen. “Are you still angry with me, Lucy?” Mrs. Merwent questioned when Lucy came into the room for a moment. “No,” said Lucy in a matter-of-fact voice. “I’m going shopping this afternoon if it clears off. Don’t you want to go? Mrs. Hamilton is going to look after Dimmie.” “I suppose you despise me too much to be angry,” persisted Nannie. “Let’s think of something else, Mamma.” “How can I think of anything else when the only person I have in the world feels hard towards me?” “But I don’t feel hard toward you, Mamma.” “No! You can take a lofty attitude, Lucy. I was the one who was put in a humiliating position.” “I didn’t suppose you were saying nasty and untrue things behind my back, Mamma, or I wouldn’t have come into the dining room.” “You are so unjust, Lucy!” Nannie was in tears now. “You overhear a playful and joking word or two and immediately jump to the conclusion that I was backbiting you. Anybody can take a single phrase without the context and twist it into something mean.” “I heard plenty, Mamma, to know just the sort of situation you were trying to create. But nothing is gained by talking about what’s past, so let’s try and forget it.” “Oh, Lucy, I don’t see how you can be so cruel! There is absolutely no generous spirit in you. I have overlooked everything and never refer to it.” “I didn’t refer to this, Mamma.” Nannie sobbed violently. “I see that you will never, never forgive me, Lucy.” “I have forgiven you, Mamma.” “Well, you wouldn’t say so. You would rather let me suffer.” “No, Mamma. I don’t want you to suffer. It is I who have suffered about this matter.” “That sounds a lot like you had forgiven me.” “Well, I have,” repeated Lucy in a gentler tone. Mrs. Merwent went to her daughter and put her arms around Lucy’s neck. “Kiss me, Lucy,” she implored. “I can’t bear to have you not love me and respect me. I hate to be forgiven by my own child!” Lucy softened suddenly and returned Nannie’s kiss, but without speaking. * * * * * The sky cleared later in the day, and when Dimmie was dispatched to Mrs. Hamilton’s house with a note Lucy and Nannie took the train to the city.