his wife and children had power to agitate him.

He was agitated now.

"That will do," he said, looking up from the magazine he was trying to
read, not because it interested him in the least, but because it helped to
keep the noises out.

But the children were clamoring for an encore. "Again, again!" they cried.
"Oh Mummy, _do_ do it again!"

"Hsh-sh-sh. Daddy's reading." And Aggie drew the children closer to her,
and went on with the rhyme in her sad, weak whisper.

"If you must read aloud to them, for goodness' sake speak up and have done
with it. I can't stand that whispering."

Aggie put down the picture-book, and Arty seized one half and Catty the
other, and they tugged, till Catty let go and hit Arty, and Arty hit Catty
back again, and Catty howled.

"Can't you keep those children quiet?"

"Oh, Arty, shame! to hurt your little sister!"

At that Arty howled louder than Catty.

Arthur sat up in his chair.

"Leave the room, sir! Clear out this instant!" His weak face looked weaker
in its inappropriate assumption of command.

"Do you hear what I say, sir?"

Arty stopped crying, and steadied his quivering infant mouth till it
expressed his invincible determination.

"I'll g-g-g-go for Mommy. But I w-w-w-won't go for Daddy. I doesh'n't 'ike
him."

"Hsh-sh--poor Daddy--he's so tired. Run away to the nursery, darlings, all
of you."

"I can't think why on earth you have them down here at this time," said
their father, as the door slammed behind the last retreating child.

"My dear, you said yourself it's the only time you have for seeing them.
I'm sure you don't get much of them."

"I get a great deal too much sometimes."

"If we only had a big place for them to run about in--"

"What's the use of talking about things we haven't got, and never shall
have? Is supper ready?"

She raised herself heavily from her sofa, and went to see, trailing an old
shawl after her. Arthur, by way of being useful, put his foot upon the
shawl as it went by.

After supper he felt decidedly better, and was inclined to talk.

"I met Davidson this morning in the city. He said his wife hadn't seen you
for an age. Why don't you go and look her up?"

Aggie was silent.

"You can't expect her to be always running after you."

"I can't run after her, I assure you. I haven't the strength."

"You used," he said, reproachfully, "to be strong enough."

Aggie's mouth twisted into a blanched, unhappy smile--a smile born of