was a wistfulness about Tillie's mouth that set him
wondering.

"Is he good to you?"

"He's about the best man on earth. He's never said a cross word to
me--even at first, when I was panicky and scared at every sound."

Le Moyne nodded understandingly.

"I burned a lot of victuals when I first came, running off and hiding
when I heard people around the place. It used to seem to me that what
I'd done was written on my face. But he never said a word."

"That's over now?"

"I don't run. I am still frightened."

"Then it has been worth while?"

Tillie glanced up at the two pictures over the mantel.

"Sometimes it is--when he comes in tired, and I've a chicken ready or
some fried ham and eggs for his supper, and I see him begin to look
rested. He lights his pipe, and many an evening he helps me with the
dishes. He's happy; he's getting fat."

"But you?" Le Moyne persisted.

"I wouldn't go back to where I was, but I am not happy, Mr. Le Moyne.
There's no use pretending. I want a baby. All along I've wanted a baby.
He wants one. This place is his, and he'd like a boy to come into it
when he's gone. But, my God! if I did have one; what would it be?"

K.'s eyes followed hers to the picture and the everlastings underneath.

"And she--there isn't any prospect of her--?"

"No."

There was no solution to Tillie's problem. Le Moyne, standing on the
hearth and looking down at her, realized that, after all, Tillie must
work out her own salvation. He could offer her no comfort.

They talked far into the growing twilight of the afternoon. Tillie was
hungry for news of the Street: must know of Christine's wedding, of
Harriet, of Sidney in her hospital. And when he had told her all, she
sat silent, rolling her handkerchief in her fingers. Then:--

"Take the four of us," she said suddenly,--"Christine Lorenz and Sidney
Page and Miss Harriet and me,--and which one would you have picked to
go wrong like this? I guess, from the looks of things, most folks would
have thought it would be the Lorenz girl. They'd have picked Harriet
Kennedy for the hospital, and me for the dressmaking, and it would have
been Sidney Page that got married and had an automobile. Well, that's
life."

She looked up at K. shrewdly.

"There were some people out here lately. They didn't know me, and I
heard them talking. They said Sidney Page was going to marry Dr. Max
Wilson."

"Possibly. I believe there is no engagement yet."

He had finished