She heard him coming down at last, and suddenly remembering the license,
hid it in a drawer. She knew that he would destroy it if he saw it. And
Dan's face justified the move. He came in and stood glowering at her,
his hands in his pockets.

"What made you tell that lie to mother?" he demanded.

"She was worried, Dan. And it will be true to-morrow. You--Dan, you
didn't tell her it was a lie, did you?"

"I should have, but I didn't. What do you mean, it will be true
to-morrow?"

"We are going to be married to-morrow."

"I'll lock you up first," he said, angrily. "I've been expecting
something like that. I've watched you, and I've seen you watching him.
You'll not do it, do you hear? D'you think I'd let you get away with
that? Isn't it enough that he's got to support us, without your coaxing
him to marry you?"

She made no reply, but went on with a perfunctory laying of the table.
Her mouth had gone very dry.

"The poor fish," Dan snarled. "I thought he had some sense. Letting
himself in for a nice life, isn't he? We're not his kind, and you know
it. He knows more in a minute than you'll know all your days. In about
three months he'll hate the very sight of you, and then where'll you
be?"

When she made no reply, he called to the dog and went out into the yard.
She saw him there, brooding and sullen, and she knew that he had not
finished. He would say no more to her, but he would wait and have it out
with Willy himself.

Supper was silent. No one ate much, and Ellen, coming down with the
tray, reported Mrs. Boyd as very tired, and wanting to settle down
early.

"She looks bad to me," she said to Edith. "I think the doctor ought to
see her."

"I'll go and send him."

Edith was glad to get out of the house. She had avoided the streets
lately, but as it was the supper hour the pavements were empty. Only
Joe Wilkinson, bare-headed, stood in the next doorway, and smiled and
flushed slightly when he saw her.

"How's your mother?" he asked.

"She's not so well. I'm going to get the doctor."

"Do you mind if I get my hat and walk there with you?"

"I'm going somewhere else from there, Joe."

"Well, I'll walk a block or two, anyhow."

She waited impatiently. She liked Joe, but she did not want him then.
She wanted to think and plan alone and in the open air, away from the
little house with its odors and its querulous thumping cane upstairs;
away from Ellen's grim face and Dan's angry one.

He came out