chance, my dear?"

"There's nothing to hope for here," she went on, cruelly, "except from
what I can do myself. Mother's no good; and Matt's worse than if he was
dead. I wish to God he would die--before he comes out. And you know what
you are, father."

"I do the best I can, my dear," he said, humbly.

"I know you do; but we can all see what that is. Everybody else is going
ahead but us."

"Oh no, they're not, my dear. There are lots that fall behind as bad as
we do--and worse."

She shook her head fiercely. "No, not worse. They couldn't. And
whatever's to be done, I've got to do it. If I don't--or if I
can't--well, we might as well give up. So you mustn't try to stop me,
father. I know what I'm doing. It's for your sake and everybody's sake
as much as for my own."

He dropped his eyes to his book, in seeming admission that he had no
tenable ground on which to meet her in a conflict of wills. "Very well,
my dear," he sighed. "If you're going to Polly Wilson's you'd better be
off. You'll be home by ten, won't you? I must go then to show the new
fireman his way about the place."

* * * * *

Outside it was a windy night, but not a cold one. Shreds of dark cloud
scudded across the face of a three-quarters moon, giving it the
appearance of traveling through the sky at an incredible rate of speed.
In the south wind there was the tang of ocean salt, mingled with the
sweeter scents of woodland and withered garden nearer home. There was a
crackling of boughs in the old apple-trees, and from the ridge behind
the house came the deep, soft, murmurous soughing of pines.

If Rosie lingered on the door-step it was not because she was afraid of
the night sounds or of the dark. She was restrained for a minute by a
sense of terror at what she was about to do. It was not a new terror.
She felt it on every occasion when she went forth to keep this tryst. As
she had already said to her father, she knew what she was doing. She was
neither so young nor so inexperienced as to be unaware of the element of
danger that waited on her steps. No one could have told her better than
she could have told herself that the voice of wise counsel would have
bidden her stay at home. But if she was not afraid of the night, neither
was she irresolute before the undertaking. Being forewarned, she was
forearmed. Being forearmed, she could run the risks. Running the risks,
she could enjoy the excitement and find solace in