elf at night. In fact he
became so averse to leaving his home that it was hard to get him out
when the mother wanted him to go. And never again did Keith hear his
parents quarrel openly.

But now and then when his father came home from work, Keith would
notice that same slight thickness of speech which had forced itself on
his attention on two extraordinary occasions.

He was a man himself before he realized what that thickness signified in
his father's life.

VIII

"Oh, mamma, you mustn't!" cried Keith's mother one day when she came out
into the kitchen and found the boy munching a slice of white bread with
butter on it.

"He likes it so much," replied Granny easily.

"But you know what Carl has said," the mother rejoined rather
impatiently. "He'll find out sooner or later if you disregard it, and
then he'll be furious."

"So he will anyhow," muttered Granny.

"Mamma!" protested the mother. "It's for the boy's own good. He should
only eat hard bread except on Sundays and when we have company. It is
much better for his teeth. And it makes him stronger too. You want to be
big and strong, don't you Keith?"

"It's a wonder his father lets him have anything at all to eat," Granny
put in before Keith had a chance to answer.

"You must not talk like that, mamma," said the mother sharply. "Least of
all when the boy hears it." Then she turned to Keith again: "Don't you
believe what Granny says. Your father is merely thinking of what is
good for you. He loves you just as much as I do--or your grandmother.
But he thinks we are spoiling you. And he wants you to grow up and be a
real man. That's why he hates to see you cry."

There was a pause while Keith pondered the matter--not seriously
concerned on the whole, as long as the tidbit was not taken away
from him.

"Don't you love your father," his mother asked suddenly.

"Ye-es," Keith answered mechanically.

Then he began to ponder again. His feelings toward his father were far
too complicated for utterance. They seemed to have nothing whatsoever to
do with love, if that was what he felt for his mother. There was
undoubtedly a great deal of fear in his attitude toward the father, and
also resentment that at times would flare into something bordering on
hatred. But this attitude was combined with a lot of respect, not to say
admiration. At times it would also be tinged with a longing that he
could not explain or express. And if ever the father gave him the
s