"I 'spect she means she's sick." He frowned and looked suspiciously at the girl. Here was a new complication, and very possibly a trick. "What's the matter with her?" "Dunno." "Well, she had better get well enough to go by this afternoon," he remarked, controlling his irritation with difficulty, and nothing more was said. Full of his new plans he spent a busy forenoon and then came to dinner. It was the same old story. He went up and knocked at Mrs. Mumpson's door, saying that he wished to speak with her. "I'm too indisposed to transact business," she replied feebly. "You must be ready tomorrow morning," he called. "I have business plans which can't be delayed," and he turned away muttering rather sulphurous words. "He will relent; his hard heart will soften at last--" But we shall not weary the reader with the long soliloquies with which she beguiled her politic seclusion, as she regarded it. Poor, unsophisticated Jane made matters worse. The condition of life among her much-visited relatives now existed again. She was not wanted, and her old sly, sullen, and furtive manner reasserted itself. Much of Holcroft's sympathy was thus alienated, yet he partially understood and pitied her. It became, however, all the more clear that he must get rid of both mother and child, and that further relations with either of them could only lead to trouble. The following morning only Jane appeared. "Is your mother really sick?" he asked. "S'pose so," was the laconic reply. "You haven't taken much pains with the breakfast, Jane." "'Taint no use." With knitted brows he thought deeply, and silently ate the wretched meal which had been prepared. Then, remarking that he might do some writing, he went up to a small attic room which had been used occasionally by a hired man. It contained a covered pipe-hole leading into the chimney flue. Removing the cover, he stopped up the flue with an old woolen coat. "I suppose I'll have to meet tricks with tricks," he muttered. Returning to his own apartment, he lighted a fire in the stove and laid upon the kindling blaze some dampened wood, then went out and quietly hitched his horses to the wagon. The pungent odor of smoke soon filled the house. The cover over the pipe-hole in Mrs. Mumpson's room was not very secure, and thick volumes began to pour in upon the startled widow. "Jane!" she shrieked. If Jane was sullen toward Holcroft, she was furious at her mother, and paid no heed at first to her cry. "Jane, Jane, the house is on fire!" Then the child did fly up the stairway. The smoke seemed to confirm the words of her mother, who was dressing in hot haste. "Run and tell Mr. Holcroft!" she cried. "I won't," said the girl. "If he won't keep us in the house, I don't care if he don't have any house."