if you wish to pay him for driving you up,
Pa," Sally said, coming in from the steps. Dutifully, meekly, she stood
looking at her father. Lydia, coming in from the kitchen, gave him a
respectful yet daughterly kiss. Singly and collectively there was no
fault to be found with the Monroe girls to-night, even by the most
exacting parent.

"Your sister said you were upstairs, Sally," Malcolm said, narrowing
his eyes.

"So I was, Pa, but I came down to light the hall gas, and while I was
there Joe came to the door," Sally answered innocently.

"H'm! Well, you tell him to charge it." Malcolm sat down by the
fireplace. There was no fire, the evening was not cold enough for one.
He began to unlace his shoes. "Brother home?" he asked, glancing from
Lydia, who was filling the water glasses from a glazed china pitcher,
to Martie, who was dragging and pushing six chairs into place.

"Not yet--no, sir!" the two girls said together unhesitatingly. Leonard
could take care of himself under his father's displeasure. Martie added
solicitously, "Would you like your slippers, Pa? I know where they are;
by the chestard."

He did not immediately answer, being indeed in no mood for a civil
response, and yet finding no welcome cause for grievance. He sat, a
lean, red-faced man, with a drooping black moustache, a high-bridged
nose, and grizzled hair, looking moodily about him.

"Get them--get them; don't stand staring there, Martie!" he burst out
suddenly. Martie caught up his shoes and dashed upstairs.

She went into the large, vault-like apartment that had been her
mother's bedroom for nearly thirty years. To a young and ardent nature,
facing the great question of loving and mating, any place less
indicative of the warmth and companionship of marriage could hardly
have been imagined. The bedstead of heavy redwood was wide, flat, and
hard. It was flanked by a marble-topped table and a chair. There were
two large, curtained bay windows in this room, too, a faded carpet, a
wash-stand with two pallid towels on the rack, several other
stiff-backed chairs, and a large bureau with a square mirror and a
brown marble slab. Over this slab a thin strip of fringed scarf was
laid, and on the scarf stood a brown satin box, with the word "Gloves"
painted over the yellow roses that ornamented its cover.

This was all. Mrs. Monroe kept in the box an odd castor, an empty
cologne bottle, a new corset string, five coat buttons, a rusty pair of
scissors