ced an
overwhelming realization of the desperation of Hannah's plight,--the
destiny of spending one's days, without sympathy, toiling in the
confinement of these rooms to supply their bodily needs. Never had a
destiny seemed so appalling. And yet Janet resented that pity. The effect
of it was to fetter and inhibit; from the moment of its intrusion she was
no longer a free agent, to leave Hampton and Ditmar when she chose.
Without her, this family was helpless. She rose, and picked up some of
the dishes. Hannah snatched them from her hands.

"Leave 'em alone, Janet!" she said with unaccustomed sharpness. "I guess
I ain't too feeble to handle 'em yet."

And a flash of new understanding came to Janet. The dishes were
vicarious, a substitute for that greater destiny out of which Hannah had
been cheated by fate. A substitute, yes, and perhaps become something of
a mania, like her father's Bumpus papers.... Janet left the room swiftly,
entered the bedroom, put on her coat and hat, and went out. Across the
street the light in Mr. Tiernan's shop was still burning, and through the
window she perceived Mr. Tiernan himself tilted back in his chair, his
feet on the table, the tip of his nose pointed straight at the ceiling.
When the bell betrayed the opening of the door he let down his chair on
the floor with a bang.

"Why, it's Miss Janet!" he exclaimed. "How are you this evening, now? I
was just hoping some one would pay me a call."

Twinkling at her, he managed, somewhat magically, to dispel her temper of
pessimism, and she was moved to reply:--"You know you were having a
beautiful time, all by yourself."

"A beautiful time, is it? Maybe it's because I was dreaming of some young
lady a-coming to pay me a visit."

"Well, dreams never come up to expectations, do they?"

"Then it's dreaming I am, still," retorted Mr. Tiernan, quickly.

Janet laughed. His tone, though bantering, was respectful. One of the
secrets of Mr. Tiernan's very human success was due to his ability to
estimate his fellow creatures. His manner of treating Janet, for
instance, was quite different from that he employed in dealing with Lise.
In the course of one interview he had conveyed to Lise, without arousing
her antagonism, the conviction that it was wiser to trust him than to
attempt to pull wool over his eyes. Janet had the intelligence to trust
him; and to-night, as she faced him, the fact was brought home to her
with peculiar force that this wiry