It was nearly dark when she saw him coming slowly down the path from the hill. She lighted the study-lamp, rearranged the cushions, and tried to make the room look cheery for his entrance. He stopped in the hall and hung up his hat. There was momentary silence. Would he shut himself in his room for the night, or would he come into the study? At last the door opened and Mandy hastened to place a chair for him. “Ah's 'fraid you'se mighty tired,” she said. “Oh, no,” answered Douglas, absently. “Mebbe you'd like Mandy to be sarvin' your supper in here to-night. It's more cheerfuller.” The side-showman was already beginning his spiel in the lot below. The lemonade venders{sic} and the popcorn sellers were heard crying their wares. Douglas did not answer her. She bustled from the room, declaring “she was jes' goin' ter bring him a morsel.” He crossed to the window and looked out upon the circus lot. The flare of the torches and the red fire came up to meet his pale, tense face. “How like the picture of thirteen months ago,” he thought, and old Toby's words came back to him--“The show has got to go on.” Above the church steeple, the moon was battling its way through the clouds. His eyes travelled from heaven to earth. There was a spirit of unreality in it all. Something made him mistrust himself, his very existence. He longed to have done with dreams and speculation, to feel something tangible, warm, and real within his grasp. “I can't go on like this!” he cried. “I can't!” He turned from the window and walked hurriedly up and down the room; indoors or out, he found no rest. He threw himself in the armchair near the table, and sat buried in thought. Mandy came softly into the room. She was followed by Hasty, who carried a tray, laden with things that ought to have tempted any man. She motioned for Hasty to put the tray on the table, and then began arranging the dishes. Hasty stole to the window, and peeped out at the tempting flare of red fire. When Douglas discovered the presence of his two “faithfuls” he was touched with momentary contrition. He knew that he often neglected to chat with them now, and he made an effort to say something that might restore the old feeling of comradeship. “Have you had a hard day with the new gravel walk?” he asked Hasty, remembering that he had been laying a fresh path to the Sunday-school-room. Hasty glanced uneasily at Mandy, afraid either to lie or tell the truth about the disposition she had made of his afternoon.