the wrong way. To the large, worn, patient, sickly mother
she was a sympathetic listener, wise in council and most efficient in
her help. The young ones too, liked her very well. The sons teased her
all the time and roared with boisterous pleasure when she gave them
back sharp hits. The girls were all so good that her scoldings here
were only in the shape of good advice, sweetened with new trimmings
for their hats, and ribbons, and sometimes on their birthdays, bits of
jewels.

It was here that Anna came for comfort after her grievous stroke at
her friend the widow, Mrs. Lehntman. Not that Anna would tell Mrs.
Drehten of this trouble. She could never lay bare the wound that came
to her through this idealised affection. Her affair with Mrs. Lehntman
was too sacred and too grievous ever to be told. But here in this
large household, in busy movement and variety in strife, she could
silence the uneasiness and pain of her own wound.

The Drehtens lived out in the country in one of the wooden, ugly
houses that lie in groups outside of our large cities.

The father and the sons all had their work here making beer, and the
mother and her girls scoured and sewed and cooked.

On Sundays they were all washed very clean, and smelling of kitchen
soap. The sons, in their Sunday clothes, loafed around the house or in
the village, and on special days went on picnics with their girls. The
daughters in their awkward, colored finery went to church most of the
day and then walking with their friends.

They always came together for their supper, where Anna always was most
welcome, the jolly Sunday evening supper that german people love.
Here Anna and the boys gave it to each other in sharp hits and hearty
boisterous laughter, the girls made things for them to eat, and waited
on them all, the mother loved all her children all the time, and
the father joined in with his occasional unpleasant word that made a
bitter feeling but which they had all learned to pass as if it were
not said.

It was to the comfort of this house that Anna came that Sunday summer
afternoon, after she had left Mrs. Lehntman and her careless ways.

The Drehten house was open all about. No one was there but Mrs.
Drehten resting in her rocking chair, out in the pleasant, scented,
summer air.

Anna had had a hot walk from the cars.

She went into the kitchen for a cooling drink, and then came out and
sat down on the steps near Mrs. Drehten.

Anna's anger had