"Oh, I know I'm late," she said crossly, breathing heavily. "But it wasn't my fault. I started early enough. But there was such a mob in the store you couldn't get anywhere. If you'd been squeezed and pushed and punched like I was in the stores and in the street cars, well, you wouldn't say a word." "Of course you had to go!" "I wasn't going to miss a bargain of that kind. You don't get 'em often." Tom gazed darkly at the two bulky packages, the cause of his delayed dinner. "Can I have something to eat,--and quick?" By this time her hat and jacket were off. "Just as soon as I get back my breath," she said, and began to undo the packages. The little boy came to her side. "I'm so hungry, ma," he whined. "Gimme a piece." "Dinner'll be ready in a little while," she answered carelessly. "But I can't wait!"--and he began to cry. Maggie turned upon him sharply. "If you don't stop that bawling, Ferdie, you shan't have a bite of dinner." The boy cried all the louder. "Oh, you!" she ejaculated; and took a piece of coarse cake from the cupboard and handed it to him. "Now do be still!" Ferdinand filled his mouth with the cake, and she returned to the packages. "I been wanting something to fill them empty places at the ends of the mantel this long time, and when I saw the advertisement in the papers this morning, I said it was just the thing.... Now there!" Out of one pasteboard box she had taken a dancing Swiss shepherdess, of plaster, pink and green and blue, and out of the other box a dancing Swiss shepherd. One of these peasants she had put on either side of the knight, at the ends of the mantel. "Now, don't you like that?" Tom looked doubtfully at the latest adornment of his home. Somehow, he didn't just like it, though he didn't know why. "I guess it'll do," he said at length. "And they were only thirty-nine cents apiece! Now when I get a new tidy for the mantel,--a nice pink one with flowers. Just you wait!" "Well,--but let's have dinner first." "In just a minute." With temper restored by sight of her art treasures, Maggie went into the bedroom and quickly returned in an old dress. The dinner of round steak, fried potatoes and coffee was ready in a very short time. The steak avenged its hasty preparation by presenting one badly burnt side. But Tom ate the poor dinner without complaint. He was used to poor dinners; and his only desire was to get away and to Barry's. Once during the meal he looked at his wife, a question in his mind. Should he tell her? But his eyes fell back to his plate and he said nothing. She must know some time, of course--but he didn't want the scene now. But she herself approached uncomfortably near the subject. She had glanced at him hesitatingly several times while they were eating; as he was rising from the table she began resolutely: "I met Mrs. Jones this afternoon. She told me what you said about Foley last night at the meeting. Her husband told her." Tom paused.