be when they were abroad. Since their return, he'd sit for
hours in gloomy meditation. His fits of complete abstraction filled her
with dread.

She brought back in sequenced retrospection the happy years of
travel--how proud she'd always been of her handsome husband and of his
courtly deference to her. She had never ceased to be grateful that
Heaven had given her this man to love and cherish her. She couldn't tell
how or when the change had come, but somehow they weren't happy together
any more. He was so moody and quarrelsome lately. She missed her
brother, too. Why those two men should get by the ears over the
inhabitants of the Silent City she couldn't understand. But her thoughts
were soon concentrated upon the work at hand and contemplating the joy
she would have in Elsie's pleasure, she began to hum to herself.

Two or three times she peered at Ebenezer through her lashes. How
moodily quiet he was! She wished Elsie were awake--the little girl
always succeeded in dissipating the frown from her father's brows.

Suddenly, she held up the doll in all its newly-adjusted festive attire.

"There, now, dear, isn't the doll baby pretty?" she smiled.

Ebenezer didn't take his gaze from the burning logs.

"I'm not interested in dolls tonight." His tone was harsh and his manner
studiously rude. Then, as though he'd finally determined to say
something else, he looked around at her.

"I taught Tess Skinner a lesson today I don't believe she'll forget," he
burst forth savagely.

The doll dropped from Helen's hands, its head striking sharply against
the arm of her chair.

"What do you mean?" she gasped.

"You needn't get that expression on your face, my lady--"

"Oh, Ebenezer!" interjected Helen, drearily. "What makes you act so? One
would think you spent your whole time trying to get even with
somebody."

"I got even with my lady Skinner," smiled Waldstricker. "I gave her brat
a whipping." The words came slowly, and the man watched their effect.

Helen was not able to sense the full meaning of his statement at first.
Mechanically, she rescued the doll and laid it on the table. Beginning
to see the picture he'd suggested, she opened her mouth, closed it again
and at the next attempt spoke.

"Why, Ebenezer, Tessibel's baby is only a month or so older than Elsie!"

"Well, what of it! He's an impudent little whelp. Takes after his
mother, I suppose."

"But you don't really mean you whipped him!" Helen exclaimed, s