a plan to
unfold to her. He described his life in New York, and spoke of the many
advantages of living there. He wanted her to come with him. He would
give her every comfort that could be thought of. His income was ample.
They would be company for each other. The things she wanted to forget
would never follow her there. She would make good, new friends and end
her days in contentment and comfort.

She listened to him attentively, a warm stare of maternal pride in her
meek eyes, but when he paused she slowly shook her head. She seemed
embarrassed; then she said: "I couldn't do that, John. You may think it
odd of anybody, but I really wouldn't like a bustling life like that
now. I've got a taste of this, and I think I'd rather keep it. Then I
must be honest with you. I mustn't keep back anything. The truth is I
don't want to leave Tilly and Joel and the children. I've got used to
them, I reckon. I think they want me, too, I really do; at least I hope
so. I've found this out, John; people either like one sort of life or
the other. When I was living like--like I used to live, I wanted that
and nothing else, but now I want this and nothing else. I wish you could
live here, but you know best about that. It would be wrong in some ways,
for, considering the way you and Tilly feel about each other, and her
duty to Joel and the children, it wouldn't be best for you to be close
together. I was thinking about that last night and wondering whether you
and her ought to meet even once again. It seems to me that it would be
awkward for you both, and hard on poor Joel."

"I had no idea of--of meeting her," John said, in a tone which sank
beneath his breath. "I must spare her that."

"It is a pity--a pity, but it will be best!" Mrs. Trott sighed. "I wish
I could see some other way, but I can't. How long are you going to
stay?"

"Not longer than a week," he answered. "Are you sure that you won't go
with me?"

She slowly shook her head. "No, I must stay here, John. I couldn't leave
them-- I really couldn't. They have wound themselves about my tired old
heart and I want to stay near them. I wish I could help them out of
their terrible poverty. The children ought to be educated. They are
wonderfully bright."

They sat without speaking for several minutes; then John said,
suddenly: "Do you think we could, between us, devise any way by which I
might help them substantially? I assure you I have plenty of money for
which I have no need.