hurt the mother to
think how they hardened when the child awakened. The realization of
this struck Mary-Clare anew and reinforced her to her purpose, for she
knew her hour was at hand.

A week before she had dismantled the room in which she now stood. It
had once been Doctor Rivers's chamber; later it had been hers--and
Larry's. The old furniture was now in the large upper room, only bare
necessities were left here.

Mary-Clare looked about and her face lost its smile; her head
lowered--it was not easy, the task she had set for herself, and after
Larry's visit to the mines it would be harder. She had hoped to see
Larry first, for Maclin had a subtle power over him. Without ever
referring to her, and she was sure he did not in an intimate sense, he
always put Larry in an antagonistic frame of mind toward her. Well, it
was too late now to avert Maclin's influence--she must do the best she
could. She went back to the fire and sat down and waited.

It was after ten o'clock when Larry came noisily in. Rivers took his
colour from his associates and their attitude toward him. He was a bit
hilarious now, for Maclin had been glad to see him; had approved of
the results of his mission--though as for that Larry had had little to
do, for he had only delivered, to certain men, some private papers and
had received others in return; had been conscious that non-essentials
had been talked over with him, but as that was part of the business of
big inventions, he did not resent it. Maclin had paid him better than
he had expected to be paid, shared a good dinner with him and a bottle
of wine, and now Rivers felt important and aggressive. Wine's first
effect upon him was to make him genial.

He had meant to resent Mary-Clare's absence on his arrival, but he had
forgotten all about that. He meant now to be very generous with her
and let bygones be bygones--he had long since forgotten the words
spoken just before he left for his trip. Words due, of course, to
Mary-Clare just having had a baby. Almost Larry had forgotten that the
baby had been born and had died.

He strode across the room. He was tall, lithe, and good-looking, but
his face betokened weakness. All the features that had promised
strength and power seemed, somehow, to have missed fulfilment.

Mary-Clare tried to respond; tried to do her full part--it would all
help so much, if she only could. But this mood of Larry's was fraught
with danger--did she not know? Success did