And afterwards, when the lark was
over, it would stay on, singing in his heart. And he would lie in the
dark and love Her.

For Her part, it was a busy day enough and did not lag. She did her
shopping and called on a town friend or two. In the late afternoon
she ran in to several art-stores where pictures were on exhibition.
It was at the last of these places that she chanced to meet a woman
who was a neighbor of hers in the suburbs.

"Why, Mrs. Cody!" the neighbor cried. "How delightful! You've come in
to see Irving, too?"

"No," with distinct regret answered Murray's mother, "but I wish I
had! I'm only in for a little shopping."

"Not going to stay! Why, it will be _wicked_ to go back
to-night--unless, of course, you've seen him in Robespierre."

"I haven't. Cicely Howe has been teasing me to stop over and go with
her. It's a 'sure-enough' temptation, as Fred says. Fred's away, so
that part's all right. Of course there's Murray, but there's also
Sheelah--" She was talking more to herself now than to the neighbor.
The temptation had taken a sudden and striking hold upon her. It was
the chance of a lifetime. She really ought--

"I guess you'll stop over!" laughed the neighbor. "I know the signs."

"I'll telephone to Sheelah," Murray's mother decided, aloud, "then
I'll run along back to Cicely's. I've always wanted to see Irving in
that play."

But it was seven o'clock before she telephoned. She was to have been
at home at half-past seven.

"That you, Sheelah? I'm not coming out to-night--not until morning.
I'm going to the theatre. Tell Murray I'll bring him a present. Put
an extra blanket over him if it comes up chilly."

She did not hang up the receiver at once, holding it absently at her
ear while she considered if she ought to say anything else to
Sheelah. Hence she heard distinctly an indignant exclamation.

"Will you hear that, now! An' the boy that certain! 'She's promised,'
he says, an' he'll kape on 'She's-promising' for all o' me, for it's
not tell him I will! He can go to slape in his poor little boots,
expectin' her to kape her promise!"

The woman with the receiver at her ear uttered a low exclamation. She
had not forgotten the Promise, but it had not impressed her as
anything vital. She had given it merely to comfort Little Silly when
he cried. That he would regard it as sacred--that it _was_
sacred--came to her now with the forcible impact of a blow. And,
oddly enough, close upon its heel