She stood up. "Do you know, young man, that you've said things to me that are outrageous to have said?" She was trembling so it seemed hard to speak. "I've let you go on just because I was stupified by your presumption--staggered, and rather amused at your childish audacity. But you've gone a little too far! How _dare_ you talk to me like this?" she demanded with passion. He had moved toward the door. He looked at her, then looked away. His control was all broken down now. "I'm sorry to have it end like this," he muttered. She laughed a little, but she was shaken with the sobs she was plainly making a big effort to hold back. "I'm so sorry," he said with such real feeling that the tears brimmed from her eyes. He stood there awkwardly. Somehow her house seemed very lonely, comfortless. And now that her composure was broken down, the way she looked made him very sorry for her. "I don't want you to think," he said gently, "that I don't see how bad it has been for you." She tried to laugh. "You don't think your sister was very--fair to me, do you?" she asked chokingly, looking at him in a way more appealing than aggressive. "I suppose not," he said. "No, I suppose not." He stood there considering that. "But I guess," he went on diffidently, "I don't just know myself--but it seems there come times when being fair gets sort of--lost sight of." The tears were running down her face and she was not trying to check them. He stood there another minute and then timidly held out his hand. "Good-by, Mrs. Williams," he said gently. She took his hand with a queer, choking little laugh and held it very tight for a minute, as if to steady herself. His own eyes had dimmed. Then he smiled--a smile that seemed to want to go ahead and take any offence or hurt from what he was about to say. "Maybe, Mrs. Williams, that you will come to feel like being fairer to Ruth than Ruth was to you." His smile widened and he looked very boyish as he finished, "And that would be _one_ way of getting back, you know!" CHAPTER THIRTY