came out of the New House, a Sunday trio was in course of
passage upon the sidewalk: an ample young woman, placid of face;
a black-clad, thin young man, whose expression was one of habitual
anxiety, habitual wariness and habitual eagerness. He propelled a
perambulator containing the third--and all three were newly cleaned,
Sundayfied, and made fit to dine with the wife's relatives.

"How'd you like for me to be THAT young fella, mamma?" the husband
whispered. "He's one of the sons, and there ain't but two left now."

The wife stared curiously at Bibbs. "Well, I don't know," she returned.
"He looks to me like he had his own troubles."

"I expect he has, like anybody else," said the young husband, "but I
guess we could stand a good deal if we had his money."

"Well, maybe, if you keep on the way you been, baby'll be as well fixed
as the Sheridans. You can't tell." She glanced back at Bibbs, who had
turned north. "He walks kind of slow and stooped over, like."

"So much money in his pockets it makes him sag, I guess," said the young
husband, with bitter admiration.

Mary, happening to glance from a window, saw Bibbs coming, and she
started, clasping her hands together in a sudden alarm. She met him at
the door.

"Bibbs!" she cried. "What is the matter? I saw something was terribly
wrong when I--You look--" She paused, and he came in, not lifting his
eyes to hers. Always when he crossed that threshold he had come with
his head up and his wistful gaze seeking hers. "Ah, poor boy!" she said,
with a gesture of understanding and pity. "I know what it is!"

He followed her into the room where they always sat, and sank into a
chair.

"You needn't tell me," she said. "They've made you give up. Your
father's won--you're going to do what he wants. You've given up."

Still without looking at her, he inclined his head in affirmation.

She gave a little cry of compassion, and came and sat near him. "Bibbs,"
she said. "I can be glad of one thing, though it's selfish. I can be
glad you came straight to me. It's more to me than even if you'd come
because you were happy." She did not speak again for a little while;
then she said: "Bibbs--dear--could you tell me about it? Do you want
to?"

Still he did not look up, but in a voice, shaken and husky he asked her
a question so grotesque that at first she thought she had misunderstood
his words.

"Mary," he said, "could you marry me?"

"What did you say, Bibbs?" she asked, qui