Mrs. Blair made a gesture of disgust. “--oh, brother, I didn’t mean to find fault with you. Only with myself. I--I haven’t any right to spend money that I--don’t know about.” “Well, anything more?” Robert Blair said, a little tired of her foolishness. “My dear, like the parson, you mean well; but you are a great goose!” As for his wife, she did not even answer Mrs. Eaton’s tremulous “good-night.” V The husband and wife looked at each other; then Robert Blair flung his head back with a laugh. “She is perfectly delicious!” “She is perfectly ungrateful, and I believe she means it.” “Oh, nonsense! Lil hasn’t mind enough to mean anything; and I’ll tell you another thing: in spite of her quiet ways, she really has a good deal of worldly wisdom. She knows what it is to those two children to have me interested in them. Don’t worry your little head”-- “Oh, I don’t worry,” she answered. “If she is going to presume to criticise you, I don’t want her under my roof; the sooner she leaves the better!” “Spitfire!” he told her, kissing her pretty hand, and forgetting all about his sister’s absurdity, and the strike, and the men and women shivering in the tenements down in the miserable mill town. But he remembered it all the next morning at the breakfast-table, for Lydia Eaton’s white face was too striking to escape comment. Mrs. Blair was not present, preferring to be, at what she called the “brutal hour of eight,” in her own room, with a tray and her maid and a novel. “What’s the matter?” Mr. Blair said kindly. “Are you ill, Lily?” “It’s what I told you last night, Robert,” she said nervously. The solemn Samuel, all ears, but looking perfectly deaf, brought a dish to his master’s elbow. Robert Blair closed his lips with a snap. Then he said,-- “Please make no reference to that folly before Eleanor.” But of course it was only a respite. The folly had to be repeated to Eleanor--discussed, argued, denounced, until the whole atmosphere of the house was charged with excitement. Through it all Lydia Eaton came and went, and did her packing. “Well,” her sister-in-law said contemptuously, “perhaps you’ll tell me how you mean to _feed_ Esther and Silas? You have a right to starve yourself, but I have some feeling for the children!” “I am going to work,” the other answered, trembling. “Lydia,” Mrs. Blair said passionately, “next to your ingratitude to your brother, I must say your selfishness in ruining your own children is the most dreadful thing I ever heard of!”