our doing, then he's free and I'm free. We can't make
her happy whatever we do; and why shouldn't I----No, that won't do! I
reached that point before!" She broke again into her desperate laugh.
"You may try now, mother!"

"I'd best speak to your father first----"

Penelope smiled a little more forlornly than she had laughed.

"Well, yes; the Colonel will have to know. It isn't a trouble that I
can keep to myself exactly. It seems to belong to too many other
people."

Her mother took a crazy encouragement from her return to her old way of
saying things. "Perhaps he can think of something."

"Oh, I don't doubt but the Colonel will know just what to do!"

"You mustn't be too down-hearted about it. It--it'll all come
right----"

"You tell Irene that, mother."

Mrs. Lapham had put her hand on the door-key; she dropped it, and
looked at the girl with a sort of beseeching appeal for the comfort she
could not imagine herself. "Don't look at me, mother," said Penelope,
shaking her head. "You know that if Irene were to die without knowing
it, it wouldn't come right for me."

"Pen!"

"I've read of cases where a girl gives up the man that loves her so as
to make some other girl happy that the man doesn't love. That might be
done."

"Your father would think you were a fool," said Mrs. Lapham, finding a
sort of refuge in her strong disgust for the pseudo heroism. "No! If
there's to be any giving up, let it be by the one that shan't make
anybody but herself suffer. There's trouble and sorrow enough in the
world, without MAKING it on purpose!"

She unlocked the door, but Penelope slipped round and set herself
against it. "Irene shall not give up!"

"I will see your father about it," said the mother. "Let me out
now----"

"Don't let Irene come here!"

"No. I will tell her that you haven't slept. Go to bed now, and try to
get some rest. She isn't up herself yet. You must have some
breakfast."

"No; let me sleep if I can. I can get something when I wake up. I'll
come down if I can't sleep. Life has got to go on. It does when
there's a death in the house, and this is only a little worse."

"Don't you talk nonsense!" cried Mrs. Lapham, with angry authority.

"Well, a little better, then," said Penelope, with meek concession.

Mrs. Lapham attempted to say something, and could not. She went out
and opened Irene's door. The girl lifted her head drowsily from her
pillow "Don't disturb your sister