, I like the boy--and I'm the one who will
have to tell him to pack up and leave the house! Isn't it the very devil,
how things all come back on me?"

"Look here, father," Deborah said, "suppose you let me manage this." And
Roger's heavy visage cleared.

"You mean you'll tell him?"

"Yes," she replied, "and he'll understand it perfectly. I think he has been
expecting it. I have, for a good many weeks," she added, with some
bitterness. "And I know some people who will be glad enough to take him in.
I'll see that he's made comfortable. Only--" her face clouded.

"It has meant a lot to him, being here," her father put in gruffly.

"Oh, John's used to getting knocks in this world." Her quiet voice grew
hard and stern. "I wasn't thinking of John just now. What frightens me at
times like this is Edith," she said slowly. "No, not just
Edith--motherhood. I see it in so many mothers these days--in the women
downtown, in their fight for their children against all other children on
earth. It's the hardest thing we have to do--to try to make them see and
feel outside of their own small tenement homes--and help each other--pull
together. They can't see it's their only chance! And all because of this
mother love! It's so blind sometimes, like an animal!" She broke off, and
for a moment she seemed to be looking deep into herself. "And I suppose
we're all like that, we women are," she muttered, "when we marry and have
children. If the pinch is ever hard enough--"

"_You_ wouldn't be," said Allan. And a sudden sharp uneasiness came into
Roger's mind.

"When are you two to be married?" he asked, without stopping to think. And
at once he regretted his question. With a quick impatient look at him,
Allan bent over a book on the table.

"I don't know," Deborah answered. "Next spring, I hope." The frown was
still on her face.

"Don't make it too long," said her father brusquely. He left them and went
up to bed.

* * * * *

Deborah sat motionless. She wished Allan would go, for she guessed what was
coming and did not feel equal to it to-night. All at once she felt tired
and unnerved from her long exciting evening. If only she could let go of
herself and have a good cry. She locked her hands together and looked up at
him with impatience. He was still at the table, his back was turned.

"Don't you _know_ I love you?" she was thinking fiercely. "Can't you see
it--haven't you seen it--growing, growing--