on his Sunday suit of
blue, Jim Devines giv him.

"'Where be yer other clothes, my son?' I said.

"'They're not clean,' says he. 'I've been haulin' marl for Springer this
week. He paid me to-night; the money's in the kitchen-cupboard.'

"I looked up at that, for it was work I'd never put him to.

"'It'll buy thee new shoes,' said I.

"'I did it for you, mother,' he says, suddint, puttin' his hand over his
eyes. 'I wish things were different with you.'

"'Yes, Derrick.'

"I went on with my knittin'; for I never talked much to him, for the
shame of my bad words, since he'd learned better. But I wondered what he
meant; for wages was high that winter, an' I was doin' well.

"'If ever,' he says, speakin' low an' faster, 'if ever I do anything
that gives you pain, you'll know it was for love of you I did it. Not
for myself, God knows! To make things different for you.'

"'Yes, Derrick,' I says, knittin' on, for I didn't understan' thin.
Afterwards I did. The room was dark, an' it were dead quiet for a bit;
then the lad moved to the door.

"'Where be thee goin', Derrick?' I said.

"He come back an' leaned on my chair.

"'Let me tell you when I come back,' he said. 'You'll wait for me?'
stoopin' down an' kissin' me.

"I noticed that, for he did not like to kiss,--Derrick. An' his lips
were hot an' dry.

"'Yes, I'll wait, my son,' I said. 'Thee'll not be gone long?'

"He did not answer that, but kissed me again, an' went out quickly.

"I sat an' waited long that night, an' searched till mornin'. There's
been a many nights an' days since, but I've never found him. The Hallets
all went that night, an' I heerd Derrick went as waiter-boy, so's to get
across seas. It's twenty years now. But I think he'll come,"--looking up
with a laugh.

Miss Defourchet started; where had she known this woman? The sudden
flicker of a smile, followed by a quick contraction of the eyelids and
mouth, was peculiar and curiously sensitive and sad; somewhere, in a
picture maybe, she had seen the same.

Doctor Dennis, who had waited purposely, came out now on the stoop. Miss
Defourchet looked up. The darkness had gathered while they stood there;
the pine woods, close at the right, began to lower distant and
shapeless; now and then the wind flapped a raw dash of rain in their
faces, and then was suddenly still. Behind them, two or three tallow
candles, just lighted in the store, sputtered dismal circles of dingy
glare in the damp fog;