ame back to it. They drove on and on. It
began to be late. "I guess we better go back, Si," said his wife; and
as he turned without speaking, she pulled her veil down and began to
cry softly behind it, with low little broken sobs.

Lapham started the mare up and drove swiftly homeward. At last his
wife stopped crying and began trying to find her pocket. "Here, take
mine, Persis," he said kindly, offering her his handkerchief, and she
took it and dried her eyes with it. "There was one of those fellows
there the other night," he spoke again, when his wife leaned back
against the cushions in peaceful despair, "that I liked the looks of
about as well as any man I ever saw. I guess he was a pretty good man.
It was that Mr. Sewell."

He looked at his wife, but she did not say anything. "Persis," he
resumed, "I can't bear to go back with nothing settled in our minds. I
can't bear to let you."

"We must, Si," returned his wife, with gentle gratitude. Lapham
groaned. "Where does he live?" she asked.

"On Bolingbroke Street. He gave me his number."

"Well, it wouldn't do any good. What could he say to us?"

"Oh, I don't know as he could say anything," said Lapham hopelessly;
and neither of them said anything more till they crossed the Milldam
and found themselves between the rows of city houses.

"Don't drive past the new house, Si," pleaded his wife. "I couldn't
bear to see it. Drive--drive up Bolingbroke Street. We might as well
see where he DOES live."

"Well," said Lapham. He drove along slowly. "That's the place," he
said finally, stopping the mare and pointing with his whip.

"It wouldn't do any good," said his wife, in a tone which he understood
as well as he understood her words. He turned the mare up to the
curbstone.

"You take the reins a minute," he said, handing them to his wife.

He got down and rang the bell, and waited till the door opened; then he
came back and lifted his wife out. "He's in," he said.

He got the hitching-weight from under the buggy-seat and made it fast
to the mare's bit.

"Do you think she'll stand with that?" asked Mrs. Lapham.

"I guess so. If she don't, no matter."

"Ain't you afraid she'll take cold," she persisted, trying to make
delay.

"Let her!" said Lapham. He took his wife's trembling hand under his
arm, and drew her to the door.

"He'll think we're crazy," she murmured in her broken pride.

"Well, we ARE," said Lapham. "Tell him we'd like