e
and tender. She had not had a whole night's sleep for weeks and every
nerve in her body cried out for rest; she wanted the light put out, she
wanted to get quiet and to forget the house, and to be freed from the
confusion; she was so nervous that she started at every noise. The night
was cool and Jack, who shivered in his thin gown, crawled into his
father's lap. John wanted to think at that moment, and to get rid of him
put him firmly down on the foot of the bed, moving over to give him room
at his side as he did so.

"Oh, don't shake the bed!" Elizabeth exclaimed, with such concentrated
irritation that John set the child on the floor hastily.

"I only thought you could watch him a minute. I can't keep him on my lap
all the time," John replied.

"Well, put him in the bed then, or tie him up or do something. I don't
want to watch him, and his climbing around on the bed sets me crazy!" she
exclaimed, pushing the child away from her pillow.

"We don't tie children up in the Hunter family," John replied, as usual
falling upon the unimportant phase of the discussion and, instead of
putting the child in bed, carried him off to the sitting room, where he
fell into another brown study and let the baby slip from his lap again.

Jack, as soon as released, ran back to the bedroom and threw himself up
against the side of the bed, stretching his arms up to be taken.

"Don't, dear; go to papa," Elizabeth said, trying to reach him.

Jack sidled away toward the foot of the bed, where he regarded his mother
with stolid eyes, and beat a tattoo on the bed-rail with his hard little
head.

"Jack! Don't do that!" she commanded sharply.

It was torture for her to have the bed jarred.

Jack, baby fashion, raised his head and gave the bed-rail another whack.

Elizabeth sat up suddenly and gave the child such a resounding slap that
he sat down, shaking the whole house with the impact, his screams quite in
keeping with the occasion. John carried the crying child out of the room,
shutting the door with such a bang that the house and bed shook anew, and
the girl had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.

It was the first time Elizabeth had ever struck her child in anger.
Usually gentle and patient with his baby wilfulness, her heart recoiled at
the deed. She knew that the possibilities of that action had been growing
upon her of late. Nothing could excuse it to the accusing judge of
Elizabeth's own soul. It was as if she were fenc