retty tired."

And Lois stirred herself wearily and got up.

There were two adjoining bedrooms opening out of the sitting-room.
Mrs. Field had prepared the beds that afternoon. "I thought we'd
better sleep in here," said she, leading the way to them.

Lois had the inner room. After the lamp was blown out and everything
was dark, her mother heard a soft stir and the pat of a naked foot in
there, then she heard the door swing to with a cautious creak and the
bolt slide. She knew with a great pang, that Lois had locked her door
against her mother.

Chapter V

Elliot was only a little way from the coast, and sometimes seemed to
be pervaded by the very spirit of the sea. The air would be full of
salt vigor, the horizon sky take on the level, out-reaching blue of a
water distance, and the clouds stand one way like white sails.

The next morning Lois sat on the front door-step of the Maxwell
house, between the pillars of the porch. She bent over, leaning her
elbows on her knees, making a cup of her hands, in which she rested
her little face. She could smell the sea, and also the pines in the
yard. There were many old pine trees, and their soft musical roar
sounded high overhead. The spring air in Green River had been full of
sweet moisture and earthiness from these steaming meadow-lands.
Always in Green River, above the almond scent of the flowering trees
and the live breath of the new grass, came that earthy, moist odor,
like a reminder of the grave. Here in Elliot one smelled the spring
above the earth.

The gate clicked, and a woman came up the curving path with a kind of
clumsy dignity. She was tall and narrow-shouldered, but heavy-hipped;
her black skirt flounced as she walked. She stopped in front of Lois,
and looked at her hesitatingly. Lois arose.

"Good-mornin'," said the woman. Her voice was gentle; she cleared her
throat a little after she spoke.

"Good-morning," returned Lois, faintly.

"Is Mis' Maxwell to home?"

Lois stared at her.

"Is Mis' Maxwell to home? I heard she'd come here to live," repeated
the woman, in a deprecating way. She smoothed down the folds of her
over-skirt. Lois started; the color spread over her face and neck.
"No, she isn't at home," she said sharply.

"Do you know when she will be?"

"No, I don't."

The woman's face also was flushed. She turned about with a little
flirt, when suddenly a door slammed somewhere in the house. The woman
faced about, with a look of