" "Rather behind me;" and he spoke no more that morning. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me. You'll find me at supper. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. She found a little difficulty in beginning. , or that she had a care in the world. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. “My wife refused absolutely to have anything more to do with me. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. One who—who—tres. ” He said bravely. “I don’t think I shall.
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