“My Lord! It ain’t the _town’s_ fault. For heaven’s sake, don’t go back to that old story at a time like this!” “Yes, I will,” she said. “The time’s come when you’ve got to let me take Henry and go where I want to.” Dan looked dazed. “Go where you want to? Why, where do you want to go?” “Anywhere I please!” “But, my Lord! You were away seven months out of last year. You only got back from Europe last October! What do you——” “I want to go and I want to take Henry with me! What’s just happened proves that I’m right. This is the wrong place for him.” “But I tell you the place hasn’t got anything on earth to do with it.” “Hasn’t it?” she cried. “I tell you it has all to do with it, just as it’s had all to do with me ever since I came here! I’ve hated it every instant of all these silly, wasted years I’ve been pent up here. And now it’s ruining my child—yes, ruining him—and you want me still to stay here and let _him_ stay here! You want me to waste the rest of my life, and ruin my _child’s_ life, but I tell you, Dan Oliphant, you can’t make us _do_ it—not either of us! Not _either_ of us, do you hear?” She had become hysterical, and her voice was so wild and loud that Mrs. Oliphant had come into the hall, downstairs, and was calling up piteously to know what was the matter. “What _is_ the matter, Dan, dear?” she called. “What _is_ the matter with Lena?” But Lena, shrieking, “You can’t _make_ us—you can’t _make_ us!” ran into her room and locked the door. It was a thick old door, but she could still be heard, and it was not difficult to understand that she had thrown herself upon her bed, and was there convulsive, still shrieking: “You can’t _make_ us! You can’t _make_ us! You can’t, you can’t, you _can’t_——” CHAPTER XXIX DAN reassured his mother as well as he could. “Only a fit of nerves;—too much music, I guess,” he said; and, returning to his son’s door, found it locked and Henry as unresponsive as the door. The father knocked repeatedly but not loudly, demanding admittance and obtaining the response of a profound silence. Then, as he heard Mrs. Oliphant slowly ascending the stairs to her belated bed, he decided to keep out of her way until he had better composed himself, and, retiring to his own room, discovered that his teeth were chattering.