“I haven't seen him since. He went away early this morning for the week-end. And I have not seen Mrs. Chater again either. I am to see her this afternoon. She sent me word to take the children as usual and that she would see me at three.” My poor George bitterly broke out: “Oh! Will she? That's kind of her! That's delightful of her! Are you going to see her?” “Of course I shall see her.” “'Of course'! 'Of course'! I don't know what you mean by talking in that tone. You won't stay there another minute! That's what you'll tell her if you insist upon seeing her. If you had behaved properly you'd have walked out of the house there and then when it happened last night.” Spite of her trouble Mary could not forbear to laugh. “Dearest, how could I?” But this furious young man could not see her point. His fine passion swept him above contingencies. “Well, then, this morning,” he laid down. “The first thing this morning you should have gone.” He supplied detail: “Packed your box, and called a cab and gone.” His dictatory air drew from her another sad little laugh. “Oh, George, dear,” she cried, “gone where?” It was a bucket of water dashed upon his flames, and for a moment they flickered beneath it--then roared again: “_Where? Anywhere!_” “Oh!” she cried, “you are stupid! You don't see--you don't understand! Easy to say 'anywhere,' but where--_where_? I have no money. I have no friends--I--” The knowledge of her plight and her outlook crowded upon her speech; broke her voice. Her distracted George in a moment had her hands in his. “Oh, my dear,” he cried, “what a fool I am! What a beast to storm like that! I was so wild. So mad. Of course you had to think before you moved. You were right, of course you were right. But, my darling, I'm right now. You see that, don't you? You can't stay a moment longer with those beasts.” And then he laughed grimly. “Especially,” he added, “after what I'm going to do to Master Bob.” She too laughed. The thought of Bob learning manners beneath the tuition of those sinewy brown hands that were about hers was very pleasant to her. But it was a pleasure that must be denied--this she saw clearly as the result of weary tossings throughout the night; and now she set about the task of explaining it to George. She said: “Oh, my dear, you're not right. Georgie, I can't go--if Mrs. Chater will let me stay I must stay.” He tried to be calm, to understand these women, to understand his Mary. “But why?” he asked. “Why?” “Dearest, because I must bridge over the time until you are ready to take me. You see that?” “Of course. But why there? You can easily get another place.” “Oh, easily! If you had been through it as I have been! The first thing they ask you for is a reference from your former situation. Think what a reference Mrs. Chater would give me!”