"Who said you were careless?" he muttered. He went in the other room and after a minute called out, as one trying to be pleasant, "What we going to have for supper?" "Creamed codfish," she told him. "For a little change!" he said, under his breath. "I don't think that's very kind, Stuart," she called back, quiveringly. "It's not so simple a matter to have 'changes' here now." "Oh, I know it," he said, wearily. She brought the things in and they began the meal in silence. She had not taken time to lay the table properly. Things were not so placed as to make them attractive. Stuart tasted a piece of bread and then hastily put it aside, not concealing a grimace of distaste. "What's the matter?" Ruth asked sharply. "I don't seem to care much for bread and oil," he said in a voice it was plainly an effort to make light. Ruth's eyes filled. She picked up the plate of bread and took it to the kitchen. Stuart rose and went after her. "I'll get some more bread, Ruth," he said kindly. "Guess you're tired tonight, aren't you?" She turned away from him and took a drink of water. Then she made a big effort for control and went to the dining-room. She asked some questions about town and they talked in a perfunctory way until supper was over. He had brought papers and a couple of letters from town. Ruth was out in the kitchen doing the dishes when she heard a queer exclamation from him. "What is it, Stuart?" it made her ask quickly, going to the dining-room door with the cup she was wiping. He gave her a strange look; and then suddenly he laughed. "What _is_ it?" the laugh made her repeat in quick, sharp voice. "Well, you'll never guess!" he said. She frowned and stood there waiting. "Marion's going to get a divorce." He looked at her as if he did not believe what he said. Ruth put her hand out to the casement of the door. "She _is_?" she said dully. He held up a legal looking paper. "Official notice," he said. Then suddenly he threw the thing over on the table and with a short hard laugh pulled his chair around to the fire. Ruth stood a moment looking at it lying there. Then she turned and went back to the dishes. When she returned to the living-room the paper still lay there on the table. She had some darning to do and she got out her things and sat down, chair turned to one side, not facing the legal looking document. After a little while Stuart, who had been figuring in a memorandum book, yawned and said he guessed he'd go to bed. He shook down the fire, then got up and picked up the paper from the table, folded it and took it over to the big desk in the corner where his business things were. "Well, Ruth," he remarked, "this would have meant a good deal to us ten or twelve years ago, wouldn't it?" She nodded, her head bent over the sock she was darning. "Oh, well," he said, after a pause, "maybe it will help some even yet." She made no answer.