"Let me go, Jim!" she protested, weakly. "I can't. Oh, leave me alone! You'll wake the boy. I can't. I'd like to. I--I--I want to marry you; but I----" "Aw, come on!" he pleaded, drawing her close. And he suddenly found her limp in his arms. "You got to marry me!" he whispered, in triumph. "By God! you can't help yourself. I got you! I got you!" "Oh, let me go!" "No, I won't, Millie. I'll never let you go." "For God's sake, Jim! Jim--oh, don't kiss me!" The boy stirred again--and began to mutter in his sleep. At once the woman commanded herself. She stiffened--released herself--pushed the man away. She lifted a hand--until the child lay quiet once more. There was meantime breathless silence. Then she pointed imperiously to the door. The man sullenly held his place. She tiptoed to the door--opened it; again imperiously gestured. He would not stir. "I'll go," he whispered, "if you tell me I can come back." The boy awoke--but was yet blinded by sleep; and the room was dim-lit. He rubbed his eyes. The man and the woman stood rigid in the shadow. "Is it you, mother?" There was no resisting her command--her flashing eyes, the passionate gesture. The man moved to the door, muttering that he would come back--and disappeared. She closed the door after him. "Yes, dear," she answered. "It is your mother." "Was there a man with you?" "It was Lord Wychester," she said, brightly, "seeing me home from the party." "Oh!" he yawned. "Go to sleep." He fell asleep at once. The stair creaked. The tenement was again quiet.... He was lying in his mother's place in the bed.... She looked out upon the river. Somewhere, far below in the darkness, the current still ran swirling to the sea--where the lights go different ways.... The boy was lying in his mother's place. And before she lifted him, she took his warm little hand, and kissed his brow, where the dark curls lay damp with the sweat of sleep. For a long, long time, she sat watching him through a mist of glad tears. The sight of his face, the outline of his body under the white coverlet, the touch of his warm flesh: all this thrilled her inexpressibly. Had she been devout, she would have thanked God for the gift of a son--and would have found relief.... When she crept in beside him, she drew him to her, tenderly still closer, until he was all contained in her arms; and she forgot all else--and fell asleep, untroubled. [Illustration: Tailpiece to _At Midnight_] [Illustration: Headpiece to _A Meeting by Chance_] _A MEETING BY CHANCE_