had
not taken time to lay the table properly. Things were not so placed as
to make them attractive. Stuart tasted a piece of bread and then hastily
put it aside, not concealing a grimace of distaste. "What's the matter?"
Ruth asked sharply.

"I don't seem to care much for bread and oil," he said in a voice it was
plainly an effort to make light.

Ruth's eyes filled. She picked up the plate of bread and took it to the
kitchen. Stuart rose and went after her. "I'll get some more bread,
Ruth," he said kindly. "Guess you're tired tonight, aren't you?"

She turned away from him and took a drink of water. Then she made a big
effort for control and went to the dining-room. She asked some questions
about town and they talked in a perfunctory way until supper was over.

He had brought papers and a couple of letters from town. Ruth was out in
the kitchen doing the dishes when she heard a queer exclamation from
him. "What is it, Stuart?" it made her ask quickly, going to the
dining-room door with the cup she was wiping.

He gave her a strange look; and then suddenly he laughed. "What _is_
it?" the laugh made her repeat in quick, sharp voice.

"Well, you'll never guess!" he said.

She frowned and stood there waiting.

"Marion's going to get a divorce." He looked at her as if he did not
believe what he said.

Ruth put her hand out to the casement of the door. "She _is_?" she said
dully.

He held up a legal looking paper. "Official notice," he said. Then
suddenly he threw the thing over on the table and with a short hard
laugh pulled his chair around to the fire. Ruth stood a moment looking
at it lying there. Then she turned and went back to the dishes. When she
returned to the living-room the paper still lay there on the table. She
had some darning to do and she got out her things and sat down, chair
turned to one side, not facing the legal looking document.

After a little while Stuart, who had been figuring in a memorandum book,
yawned and said he guessed he'd go to bed. He shook down the fire, then
got up and picked up the paper from the table, folded it and took it
over to the big desk in the corner where his business things were.
"Well, Ruth," he remarked, "this would have meant a good deal to us ten
or twelve years ago, wouldn't it?"

She nodded, her head bent over the sock she was darning.

"Oh, well," he said, after a pause, "maybe it will help some even yet."

She made no answer.

"I suppose Marion wants