ivialities of his life
and the lives of those who belonged to him went on with the same
regularity and reality as tragedy, and with as certain a trend to a
catastrophe of joy or misery.

On that day when Charlotte had her fright from the tramp, she
remained at the Anderson's to supper. Eddy had also remained. When
Charlotte had waked from her nap, he followed Anderson into the
sitting-room, where was Charlotte in Mrs. Anderson's voluminous,
white frilly wrapper, a slight young figure scalloped about by soft,
white draperies, like a white flower, seated comfortably in the
largest, easiest chair in the room. Mrs. Anderson was standing over
her with another glass of wine, and a china plate containing two
great squares of sponge-cake.

"Do eat this and drink the wine, dear," she urged. "It is nearly an
hour before supper now."

"Then I really must go home, if it is so late," Charlotte cried. She
made a weak effort to rise. She was still curiously faint when she
essayed to move.

"You are going to stay here and have supper, and after supper my son
shall take you home. If you are not able to walk, we shall have a
carriage."

"I think I must go home, thank you," Charlotte repeated, in a sort of
bewildered and grateful dismay.

"If you think your mother will feel anxious, I will send and inform
her where you are," said Mrs. Anderson, "but you must stay, my dear."
There was about her a soft, but incontrovertible authority. It was
all gentleness, like the overlap of feathers, but it was compelling.
It was while Mrs. Anderson was insisting and the girl protesting that
Anderson, with Eddy at his heels, had entered the room.

"Why, Eddy dear, is that you?" cried Charlotte.

Eddy stood before her and surveyed her with commiseration and a
strong sense of personal grievance and reproach. "Yes, it's me," said
he. "Papa told me to go to walk with you, and I didn't know which way
you went, and I couldn't find out for a long time. Then I saw Mr.
Anderson taking you here, and I ran, but I couldn't catch up. He's
got awful long legs." Eddy looked accusingly at Anderson's legs.

"It was too bad," said Charlotte.

"You were awful silly to get so scared at nothing," Eddy pursued. "I
saw that tramp. He looked to me like a real nice man. Girls are
always imagining things. You'd better eat that cake, Charlotte. You
look awful. That looks like real nice cake."

"Bless your heart, you shall have some," Mrs. Anderson said, and Eddy
ac