“Oh, forgive, forgive me! I’ll be brave again, I will indeed. But I’ve been through so much lately that just now—it gets so hard—so hard”—her voice was almost inaudible—“harder and harder. I’ve been praying—and _praying_.” “Annie, dear, you’re all wrong. I’m not going to-morrow or Tuesday either. Can’t you guess?” She lifted her head from his shoulder and pushed him from her. “How queer you act! What do you _mean_?” He tried to bend a jovial gaze upon her. “I’m not going to travel any more, Annie, ever. You were all wrong; I’ve taken the offer. I went to see Mrs. Brenner’s brother in town. I tell you that little woman in Wisconsin did you a mighty good turn! And I’ve taken the chances. I’ve figured it all out.” He tried to gather her to him, but she drew back. “Why, Annie, aren’t you glad? What makes you shake so?” “You are going to stay _now_?” “Yes, always. I’m going to look after my children and my—sweet—wife. Why _Annie_! Oh, you poor, _poor_ girl, has it been as bad as _that_?” He tried once more to draw her to him, but she eluded his grasp and was gone. He heard her light footfall above and then there was only silence. He sat there by the table for a few minutes with a book before him, as he smoked, but he did not read. Once he went to the door and called “Annie!” softly, that little Margaret might not be wakened, and yet again, “Annie! Come down; I want to read to you,” but there was no response. He lingered a moment hesitatingly, and then went up the stairs himself, his feet pausing half-reluctantly on the steps. Thrice he halted, and then went on again into the room where she was a kneeling figure by the bed, her arms spread out upon it, and her hair falling over her shoulders. She raised her head momentarily with a backward glance of rapt joy at him before burying it again in the coverlet, and as his footfalls stopped on the threshold she held out one arm appealingly as if to encircle him beside her. “No—no!” he said painfully. “No, Annie! I—I can’t—it wouldn’t be right. Annie, you don’t want _me_, dear; you don’t want—— _No!_” Her white hand still mutely pleaded. Even at the very gate of heaven she could not be satisfied without him. He drew nearer, and a little nearer. Then, somehow, he had stumbled down awkwardly into the warm enclosure of her arm, and hid his face within her bosom. The Hinge The Hinge “Mrs. Ranney is going away to-morrow with the children to visit her mother; did you hear that? It will be a nice change for her, she’s alone so much, with Mr. Ranney nearly every evening at the Rowing Club or at that old hotel. Goodness knows how late he’ll stay out after she’s gone! I shouldn’t think she’d like it _at all_.”