“It _would_ matter,” Mattie said. “Something’d have gone ... broken ... nay, I can’t explain!” She stopped, hunting vainly for words with which to convey to him that the motive power would be crippled, the circuit hopelessly snapped.... “But it wouldn’t be the same.” He gazed at her with his clear, faded eyes, wondering to himself how far it was wise to attempt to argue with her. “You’ll not take kindly to stopping, Mattie,” he said presently, tentatively but bravely. “You’ve got to remember that.” “I’m not likely to forget it.” “It isn’t as if you wouldn’t feel different in the morning, you know. You’re tired, to-night. You’ll get hankering again, I doubt, as soon as you’re rested.” “I doubt I will.” “Folks don’t change that easy,” Kirkby persisted. “You’ve been set on Canada so long, you’ll find it hard to put away from you.” “I’ve got to try.” “There’ll be letters coming an’ all----” he continued firmly, and she put out her hand, crying, “Nay, now! Don’t, don’t!” but he steeled himself against her. However it hurt, they had both of them got to be sure that she knew what she was doing. “And there’s the grandchildren, you’ll think on; you’ve not forgotten them? You’ll likely never set eyes on them if you don’t go. It costs a deal to go back and forwards, these days, and there’s time as well. Sally’ll likely come, if Ellen’s bringing her to stop, but not Joe’s lad or the rest----” She stumbled to her feet, throwing out her hand a second time as if to lay it across his patient, relentless mouth. “Nay, now! _Don’t_, I tell you! D’you think I don’t know what it’ll be like, and how it’s going to hurt before I’ve finished with it? Day and night I’ll remember,--day and night. But it’s got to be borne. Some way or other I’ve got into a trap, and I doubt I’ll never get out.” “You _can_ get out, Mattie,” Kirkby said gently. “You’ve only to say the word.” “Nay, but I can’t.” She looked down at her hands as she rested them on the table, as if already she saw ghostly fetters forming about her wrists.... “Words won’t make any difference, nor letters, neither. It’s my own self makes the trap,--being too old, and being afraid of things. You should have let us go when I was younger and able to face it. You’ve kept us here too long.” “’Twasn’t me, Mattie,” Kirkby said, wincing a little for the first time. “’Twas just life.” “Nay, it was you, all right!” she said, lifting her head again. She sent him a look which he had seen more than once before, a hard, sneering look which called him an enemy and hated him as it said it. He met it quietly.... “It was you kept us. And now I’ve got to go eating my heart out till I die!” Moving away from the table, she began to walk up and down the room, clasping and unclasping her hands.