xperience to his wife to sit by his side. I
said impetuously: "If Mr Travers would allow me, I should be so glad to
read aloud to him sometimes, when you are not able to go. I am fond of
reading aloud; I believe I do it pretty well."

"I don't," she said dejectedly. "It makes me yawn. John says I
mumble." She looked at me sharply, distrustfully. "You are very kind,
but--it's too much! Why should you--"

"I'd like to, if you will let me. I--I was rude to you--that day! I've
been remorseful ever since. If you'd allow me to do this, I should feel
that I was forgiven."

"You spoke the truth," she said shortly. "And I brought it on myself.
I had no business to complain about those poor children, knowing why
they were here; but there are some moods in which one is bound to have a
vent. You hurt my pride, of course, but--it's not the first time!" She
bit her lip, turned aside for a moment, then added quickly, "I didn't
tell John!"

"Thank you. I'm glad of that. He'll be more willing to let me come.
Please tell him that I'm so sorry to have disturbed him, and want to
`make up' by helping him while he is ill. My time is my own. I can go
any day--at any time--to read any book."

She made no promise, and for several days seemed to avoid meeting me
face to face, then one morning she came to the door and asked to see me.
Some business had arisen which necessitated a day out of town. Her
husband dreaded being left alone. Did I really mean my kind offer, and
if so would to-morrow afternoon--

I went. He is a dark, sharp-featured man, with thick eyebrows and a
chronic scowl. He also looks shockingly ill, and is growing a beard.
The combination is enough to strike terror into the feminine soul. The
very maid who opened the door looked pityingly at me when I pronounced
his name; as for his nurse, she fairly bounced with relief when I was
announced. Her expression said as plainly as words, "I've had my turn--
now you can have yours!"

"Harding?" he said graciously. "Oh, yes! You are the woman who bangs
the doors." He let me read for two hours on end, and then said, "Stupid
book. I can't think how they ever get published!" but when I left, he
asked, "When will you come again?" which was as far in the way of thanks
as it is possible for him to get.

For the next three weeks I went constantly to the Home, and never once
did that man say a gracious word. If I arrived late, he growled and
said, "Thought yo