we'll make it
up in some other way if we have to." Dimly, in the future, Roger saw
long, quiet evenings in which his disturbing influence should be
rendered null and void by the charms of _Lovely Lulu, or the Doctor's
Darling_.

[Sidenote: A Morning Call]

"Barbara North sent her pa over here this morning to ask for some book.
I disremember now what it was, but it was after you was gone."

Roger's expressive face changed instantly. "Why didn't you tell me
sooner, Mother?" He spoke with evident effort. "It's too late now for me
to go over there."

"There's no call for you to go over. They can send again. Miss Miriam
can come after it any time. They ain't got no business to let a blind
old man like Ambrose North run around by himself the way they do."

"He takes very good care of himself. He knew this place before he was
blind, and I don't think there is any danger."

"Just the same, he ought not to go around alone, and that's what I told
him this morning. 'A blind old man like you,' says I, 'ain't got no
business chasin' around alone. First thing you know, you'll fall down
and break a leg or arm or something.'"

Roger shrank as if from a physical hurt. "Mother!" he cried. "How can
you say such things!"

"Why not?" she queried, imperturbably. "He knows he's blind, I guess,
and he certainly can't think he's young, so what harm does it do to
speak of it? Anyway," she added, piously, "I always say just what I
think."

Roger got up, put his hands in his pockets, and paced back and forth
restlessly. "People who always say what they think, Mother," he
answered, not unkindly, "assume that their opinions are of great
importance to people who probably do not care for them at all. Unless
directly asked, it is better to say only the kind things and keep the
rest to ourselves."

"I was kind," objected Miss Mattie. "I was tellin' him he ought not to
take the risk of hurtin' himself by runnin' around alone. I don't know
what ails you, Roger. Every day you get more and more like your pa."

[Sidenote: Dangerous Rocks]

"How long had you and father known each other before you were married?"
asked Roger, steering quickly away from the dangerous rocks that will
loom up in the best-regulated of conversations.

"'Bout three months. Why?"

"Oh, I just wanted to know."

"I used to be a pretty girl, Roger, though you mightn't think it now."
Her voice was softened, and, taking off her spectacles, she gazed far
into space; see