s just tryin' 'em," it was explained.

"Well, good luck. Eat plenty of turkey, and come and see us again soon."

They seemed hesitating about something, looking bashfully at each other
and then at us. We all looked down at them benevolently.

"You come too," muttered Beppo, and Ben put his hand into mine with a
charming gesture.

It was my turn to hesitate. Mac laughed.

"Come on, old man," he said. "We'll both go."

And we did. For two solid hours, oblivious of churchgoers, we slid down
Pine Street and toiled up Pine Street, rejoicing in the keen air, the
flying snow, and the delighted shouts of the youngsters.

"Now come in and have some candy," said we.

As we knocked the snow off our boots in the porch Bill came to the door
looking pleasantly excited.

"She's here!" she whispered, and we entered, struck suddenly dumb like
children, took off our boots and went upstairs to the studio.

Quite naturally, Mrs. Carville had stepped in to thank her neighbour for
the little leather Renaissance purse we had made for her. She
embarrassed us yet more by rising when we came in. My friend, a most
courteous and punctilious gentleman, begged her to be seated. She was
wearing her scarlet cloak, and her eloquent dusky features were
illumined with conflicting emotions.

"I did not know," she said as I was getting the box of candy. "I did not
know that people could be so kind."

"It is Christmas," explained my friend lightly. "And we always like to
be jolly, you know. When is Mr. Carville due?"

A swift shadow crossed her face and was gone.

"How can I know?" she replied. "Perhaps next week, perhaps ... but I do
not know."

"I was just saying," said Bill hurriedly, "what a pity he couldn't have
got in for Christmas."

"Never," said Mrs. Carville, watching the children eating chocolates.
"Never can he get in for Christmas. Every year it is the same since we
are married. Always, always at sea."

She looked around at us vaguely, as though she feared, somehow, that we
did not believe, or understand her. But I think we did. I think we saw
suddenly the secret of this lonely woman's soul. We saw it as she looked
round at us, the immediate and precipitous chasm between such a life as
she led, and the life of one like my friend, ever close to her husband,
understanding his whims, his fears, his hopes, his follies and his
victories. We saw the desolation of the sea-wife, the long lonely
nights, the ever-present apprehension