*

The woollen slippers muffled Miss Mattie's step so that Roger did not
hear her enter the room. Preoccupied and absorbed, he was staring
vacantly out of the window, when a strong, capable hand swooped down
beside him, gathering up the book and the letter.

[Sidenote: Tremendous Power]

"I don't know what it is about your readin', Roger," complained his
mother, "that makes you blind and deaf and dumb and practically
paralysed. Your pa was the same way. Reckon I'll read a piece myself and
see what it is that's so affectin'. It ain't a very big book, but it
seems to have tremendous power."

She sat down and began to read aloud, in a curiously unsympathetic voice
which grated abominably upon her unwilling listener:

"'Ask yourself, my Love, whether you are not very cruel to have so
entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess this in the
letter you must write immediately and do all you can to console me in
it--make it rich as a draught of poppies to intoxicate me--write the
softest words and kiss them, that I may at least touch my lips where
yours have been. For myself, I know not how to express my devotion to so
fair a form; I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than
fair. I almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer
days--three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty
common years could ever contain.'

"Ain't that wonderful, Roger? Wants to get drunk on poppies and kiss the
writin' and thinks after that he'll be made into a butterfly. Your pa
couldn't have been far from bein' a butterfly when he bought this book.
There ain't no sense in it. And this--why, it's your pa's writin',
Roger! I ain't seen it for years."

Miss Mattie leaned forward in her chair and brought the letter to
Constance close to the light. She read it through, calmly, without haste
or excitement. Roger's hands gripped the arms of his chair and his face
turned ashen. His whole body was tense.

[Sidenote: A Moment's Pain]

Then, as swiftly as it had come, the moment passed. Miss Mattie took off
her spectacles and leaned back in her chair with great weariness
evident in every line of her figure.

[Sidenote: Crazy as a Loon]

"Roger," she said, sadly, "there's no use in tryin' to conceal it from
you any longer. Your pa was crazy--as crazy as a loon. What with buyin'
books so steady and readin' of 'em so continual, his mind got unhinged.
I've always suspected it, and now I know