"And if you and me are standin' in the way of our children's happiness, we must get out of the way, mustn't we?" pursued Mrs. Williams. "Indeed, we must," said Mrs. Martin. There was a tremor in her voice, and in her heart a growing self-reproach that she should have to be reminded of her duty to her son. "Well, as I said before," remarked Mrs. Williams, "I'm not cut out to be a millstone or a stumblin'-block, and neither are you, and now somethin's got to be done." She paused. Mrs. Martin did not reply. There was a silence that threatened to become awkward. She cleared her throat and looked as nervous and confused as her hostess, then bravely resumed the charge. "Of course they might live with one of us, but if they lived with me, you'd be jealous, and rightly so, too. And if they lived with you, I'd be jealous. And Anna Belle wouldn't be willin' to have me to live alone, and Henry wouldn't leave you alone; and then there's the mother-in-law question. Did you ever live with your mother-in-law, Mrs. Martin?" Mrs. Martin hesitated a moment, "Yes, I did," she said, as if confessing to a misdemeanor. "Did you enjoy it?" questioned Mrs. Williams. "No, I didn't," replied Mrs. Martin with a decisive promptness that she rarely exhibited. "Neither did I," echoed Mrs. Williams. "There never was but one Ruth and Naomi, and they lived so long ago nobody knows whether they ever did live. I guess Henry and Anna Belle feel just as we do about mothers-in-law, and, as I said before, what are we goin' to do about it?" Mrs. Martin's only reply was a look of bewilderment and distress. It was evident to Mrs. Williams that she would have to answer her own question, but she delayed, for there were still a few well considered diplomatic remarks that it might be well to use before the climax was brought on. "Now, I don't want you to answer me, Mrs. Martin. You couldn't be expected to answer that question on such short notice as this. Many's the night I've stayed awake till long after the clock struck twelve askin' myself what could be done about it, and the only thing I can think of is this." She paused. Mrs. Martin was listening eagerly. The time had come for the final charge. "Don't you think, Mrs. Martin,"--there was an anxious, beseeching note in the speaker's voice,--"don't you think that you and me might manage to live together? Your house is big enough for two, and it's a double house, with a hall runnin' through the middle, so you can live on one side and me on the other. And if you'll let me come and live in one side of your house, I'll deed my house to Henry and Anna Belle, and they can get married with a clear conscience. You and me can be company for each other, and we've each got enough money to supply our wants; and I'll keep house on my side of the hall, and you'll keep house on your side, and there's no need of our ever fallin' out or interferin' with each other."