the window-sill, and came and stood
between them.

"Oh, Chartie ... Joe...." she said, turning from one to the other, "why
do you look so? Surely you don't want me to waste long years of my life,
clanking this chain after me, wherever I go?... Not free ... not a wife
... not _anything_ really--and Morris in the same plight!... And
Belinda.... Think of that wild, self-willed girl...."

"You're crazy, Sophy!... You really talk as if you were crazy!..." broke
in Charlotte, suffocated. "How can you _mention_ that ... that...."
Propriety prevented Charlotte from expressing herself fully. ".... That
_creature_?" she ended, breathing very short. "How can you care _what_
becomes of her?"

Sophy looked tired all at once. She dropped into a chair near the desk.

"I suppose you'll think I'm crazier than ever," she said. "But while I
don't like Belinda, I don't think she's _quite_ a 'creature' ... not
yet, anyway. And her one chance is to.... Well ... my setting Morris
free quickly ... as soon as possible, will give her her chance."

Charlotte stared at her; her little mouth unlocked by sheer amazement.

Then she said in a faint voice:

"To _think_ of my living to hear _you_ speak like that!"

"I can't help it, Chartie. That's the way I feel. I must be perfectly
honest with you and Joe, or what's the use of my talking with you at
all? Do you think I _like_ doing it?" she asked, her own voice suddenly
trembling. "Never, never have I hated anything so much!" she ended
vehemently.

She got up, went over to the window again, and stood leaning against it,
her back to them.

The Judge looked miserably at Charlotte, and her eyebrows said: "Wait a
while. She'll calm down."

So all three waited in an uncomfortable silence.

Presently Sophy turned round. There were tears in her eyes, but she was
smiling. "My poor _dear_ dears!" she said, in such an affectionate,
sorry voice that their hearts jumped towards her. "It was horrid of me
to burst out at you like that...."

Charlotte went up and put a brisk, muscular little arm hard about her
sister's shoulders.

"Come, now, darling ... let's talk _sense_," said she.

"I've got a friend in the West...." the Judge began, fidgeting a little.

Charlotte could not help it.

"Oh, Joe! _Not_ ... Sioux Falls!" she pleaded, as who should say: "At
_least_ let the headsman's axe be _clean_."

Sophy interrupted:

"If the gods give me freedom, Chartie, why should I care whether the
ora