en to where, through a partly open
door, an uncarpeted stair could be seen winding upward.

"Fanny!" she called sharply. "Fanny! ain't you ready yet?"

A quick step in the passage above, a subdued whistle, and her son Jim
came clattering down the stair. He glanced at his mother, a slight
pucker between his handsome brows. She returned the look with one of
fond maternal admiration.

"How nice you do look, Jim," said she, and smiled up at her tall son.
"I always did like you in red, and that necktie--"

Jim Dodge shrugged his shoulders with a laugh.

"Don't know about that tie," he said. "Kind of crude and flashy,
ain't it, mother?"

"Flashy? No, of course it ain't. It looks real stylish with the brown
suit."

"Stylish," repeated the young man. "Yes, I'm a regular
swell--everything up to date, latest Broadway cut."

He looked down with some bitterness at his stalwart young person clad
in clothes somewhat shabby, despite a recent pressing.

Mrs. Dodge had returned to her bread which had spread in a mass of
stickiness all over the board.

"Where's Fanny?" she asked, glancing up at the noisy little clock on
the shelf above her head. "Tell her to hurry, Jim. You're late, now."

Jim passed his hand thoughtfully over his clean-shaven chin.

"You might as well know, mother; Fan isn't going."

"Not going?" echoed Mrs. Dodge, sharp dismay in voice and eyes. "Why,
I did up her white dress a-purpose, and she's been making up ribbon
bows."

She extricated her fingers from the bread and again hurried across
the floor.

Her son intercepted her with a single long stride.

"No use, mother," he said quietly. "Better let her alone."

"You think it's--?"

The young man slammed the door leading to the stairway with a fierce
gesture.

"If you weren't blinder than a bat, mother, you'd know by this time
what ailed Fan," he said angrily.

Mrs. Dodge sank into a chair by the table.

"Oh, I ain't blind," she denied weakly; "but I thought mebbe
Fannie--I hoped--"

"Did you think she'd refused him?" demanded Jim roughly. "Did you
suppose--? Huh! makes me mad clean through to think of it."

Mrs. Dodge began picking the dough off her fingers and rolling it
into little balls which she laid in a row on the edge of the table.

"I've been awful worried about Fanny--ever since the night of the
fair," she confessed. "He was here all that afternoon and stayed to
tea; don't you remember? And they were just as happy together--I