ways."

"I see. It is wicked that any one man should have such power. The city,
the mills, his family--it's wicked." But she was conscious of no deep
anger against Anthony now. She merely saw that between them, they, she
and her grandfather, had dug a gulf that could not be passed. And
in Howard's efforts she saw the temporizing that her impatient youth
resented.

"I am afraid it is a final break, father," she said. "And if he shuts
me out I must live my own life. But I am not going to run away to Aunt
Cornelia or Europe. I shall stay here."

He had to be content with that. After all, his own sister--but he wished
it were not Jim Doyle's house. Not that he regarded Lily's shift toward
what he termed Bolshevism very seriously; all youth had a slant toward
socialism, and outgrew it. But he went away sorely troubled, after a few
words with Elinor Doyle alone.

"You don't look unhappy, Nellie."

"Things have been much better the last few years."

"Is he kind to you?"

"Not always, Howard. He doesn't drink now, so that is over. And I think
there are no other women. But when things go wrong I suffer, of course."
She stared past him toward the open window.

"Why don't you leave him?"

"I couldn't go home, Howard. You know what it would be. Worse than
Lily. And I'm too old to start out by myself. My habits are formed, and
besides, I--" She checked herself.

"I could take a house somewhere for both of you, Lily and yourself," he
said eagerly; "that would be a wonderful way out for everybody."

She shook her head.

"We'll manage all right," she said. "I'll make Lily comfortable and as
happy as I can."

He felt that he had to make his own case clear, or he might have
noticed with what care she was choosing her words. His father's age, his
unconscious dependence on Grace, his certainty to retire soon from the
arbitrary stand he had taken. Elinor hardly heard him. Months
afterwards he was to remember the distant look in her eyes, a sort of
half-frightened determination, but he was self-engrossed just then.

"I can't persuade you?" he finished.

"No. But it is good of you to think of it."

"You know what the actual trouble was last night? It was not her coming
here."

"I know, Howard."

"Don't let her marry him, Nellie! Better than any one, you ought to know
what that would mean."

"I knew too, Howard, but I did it."

In the end he went away not greatly comforted, to fight his own battles,
to meet committ