turday night."

"Yes," said Jerry, "that's to-morrer night."

"Well, don't you see? If you don't come over, she'll wonder why, and
mother'll wonder why, and mother'll ask me, and, oh, dear! dear!"

Jerry thought she really was going to cry, this time, and it seemed to
him that these domestic whirlwinds furnished ample reason for it.

"Course!" he said, in whole-hearted misery for her. "It's a bad place.
A man wouldn't think anything of it, but womenfolks are different.
They'd mind it terribly. Anybody could see they would."

Stella looked at him as if personal chastisement would be too light for
him.

"Don't you see?" she insisted in a tone of enforced patience. "If you'd
only dress up and come over."

Light broke in on him.

"Course I will, Stella," he called, so loudly that she looked over her
shoulder to see if perhaps some neighbor, crossing the wood-lot, might
have heard. "You just bet I will!"

Then, to his wonderment, she had vanished as softly as she came. Jerry
was disappointed. He had thought they were going on talking about the
domestic frenzies wrought by aunt Hill, but it seemed that further
sociability was to be denied him until to-morrow night. He took up his
axe, and went on paying into the heart of the tree. But he whistled now,
and omitted to think how much he hated Stella. He was debating whether
her scarlet shawl was redder than her cheeks. But Jerry never voiced
such wonders. They seemed to him like a pain, or satisfaction over one's
dinner, an ultimate part of individual experience.

The next night, early after supper, he took his way "down along" to the
Joyce homestead lying darkly under leafless elms. There was a light in
the parlor, as there had been every night since he began to go with
Stella, and his heart beat in recognition, knowing it was for him. He
tried the front door to walk in, neighbor-fashion, but it resisted him,
and then he let the knocker fall. Immediately a window opened above, and
Stella's voice came down to him.

"O Jerry, mother's back is worse, and I feel as if I'd ought to be
rubbin' her. You come over another time."

Jerry stood staring up at her, a choking in his throat, and something
burning hotly into his eyes. But he found his voice just as the window
was sliding down.

"Don't you want I should do somethin'? I should think she'd have to be
lifted."

"No," said Stella, quite blithely, "I can do all there is to do.
Good-night."

The window closed and