w bad he was hurt?"

"No," replied Mrs. Gerhardt.

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it," said Bass easily. "It won't do
any good. We'll get along somehow. I wouldn't worry like that if I
were you."

The truth was, he wouldn't, because his nature was wholly
different. Life did not rest heavily upon his shoulders. His brain was
not large enough to grasp the significance and weigh the results of
things.

"I know," said Mrs. Gerhardt, endeavoring to recover herself. "I
can't help it, though. To think that just when we were getting along
fairly well this new calamity should be added. It seems sometimes as
if we were under a curse. We have so much bad luck."

When Jennie came her mother turned to her instinctively; here was
her one stay.

"What's the matter, ma?" asked Jennie as she opened the door and
observed her mother's face. "What have you been crying about?"

Mrs. Gerhardt looked at her, and then turned half away.

"Pa's had his hands burned," put in Bass solemnly. "He'll be home
to-morrow."

Jennie turned and stared at him. "His hands burned!" she
exclaimed.

"Yes," said Bass.

"How did it happen?"

"A pot of glass was turned over."

Jennie looked at her mother, and her eyes dimmed with tears.
Instinctively she ran to her and put her arms around her.

"Now, don't you cry, ma," she said, barely able to control herself.
"Don't you worry. I know how you feel, but we'll get along. Don't cry
now." Then her own lips lost their evenness, and she struggled long
before she could pluck up courage to contemplate this new disaster.
And now without volition upon her part there leaped into her
consciousness a new and subtly persistent thought. What about Lester's
offer of assistance now? What about his declaration of love? Somehow
it came back to her--his affection, his personality, his desire
to help her, his sympathy, so like that which Brander had shown when
Bass was in jail. Was she doomed to a second sacrifice? Did it really
make any difference? Wasn't her life a failure already? She thought
this over as she looked at her mother sitting there so silent,
haggard, and distraught. "What a pity," she thought, "that her mother
must always suffer! Wasn't it a shame that she could never have any
real happiness?"

"I wouldn't feel so badly," she said, after a time. "Maybe pa isn't
burned so badly as we think. Did the letter say he'd be home in the
morning?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Gerhardt, recovering herself.

They ta