ow. He's old enough to have his way, and lead
his life same's we've led ours, and we've got to stand one side and let
him do it."

Her husband gave her a sharp, sudden glance, and then fell again to the
contemplation of his knotted brown hands that seemed, like all his
equipment, informed with specialized power.

"Well," he said at length, "I guess you need a kind of a change. You'll
feel better when you get over to t'other house. There's a different
outlook over there, and you'll have more to take up your mind."

She answered instantly, in the haste that dares not wait upon
reflection. Her eyes were brighter now, and her hands worked nervously.

"Oh, I ain't goin' to move, Myron. I might as well tell you that now.
I'm goin' to stay right here where I be. I don't feel able to help it.
That's my double personality. It won't let me."

Her husband was looking at her now in what seemed to her a very
threatening way. His shaggy eyebrows were drawn together and his eyes
had lightning in them. She continued staring at him, held by the
fascination of her terror. In that instant she realized a great many
things: chiefly that she had never seen her husband angry with her,
because she had taken every path to avoid the possibility, and that it
was even more sickening than she could have thought. But she knew also
that the battle was on, and suddenly, for no reason she could formulate,
she remembered one of her own fighting ancestors who was said to have
died hard in the Revolution.

"That was old Abner Kinsman," she broke out; and when her husband asked,
out of his amaze at her irrelevance, "What's that you said?" she only
answered confusedly, "Nothin', I guess."

At that the storm seemed to Myron to be over, and his forehead cleared
of anger. He looked at her in much concern.

"I guess you better lay late to-morrer mornin'," he said, rising to
close the windows and wind the clock. "I'll ride over and get Sally Drew
to come and stay a spell and help you."

Something tightened through her tense body, and she answered instantly
in a clear, loud note,--

"I ain't goin' to have Sally Drew. Last time I had her she washed up the
hearth with the dish-cloth. If I want me a girl, I'll get one; but mebbe
I sha'n't want one till Hermie brings Annie into the neighborhood to
live."

She stood still in her place for a moment, trembling all over, and
wondering what would happen when Myron had wound the clock and closed
the windows a