o take the chill out of the house. She looked at him
mysteriously, as though he were a ghost of some lost one who had strayed
in from a graveyard, but she said nothing. Bill did not even nod to her.
He fumbled with his books, as though to keep them from slipping to the
floor when, quite obviously, they were not even inclined to leave the
chair. Rose let her eyes fall and then slide, under half-closed lids,
until they had Martin in her view. She looked at him appealingly, but
he was staring at a paper which he was not reading. He had been in this
chair for two hours, without a word, pretending to be studying printed
words which his mind refused to register. Martin had done Bill's share
of the chores, with unbelief in his heart. He had never imagined such a
thing. Who would have thought it could happen--a son of his!

His wife broke the silence with:

"What happened, Billy? Were you sick?"

"No, mother, I wasn't sick."

Martin was still looking at his paper, which his fists gripped tightly.

"Then you just couldn't get home sooner, could you? Something you
couldn't help kept you away, didn't it?"

Bill shook his head slowly. "No," he answered easily. "I could have come
home much sooner."

"Billy, dear, what DID happen?" She was beginning to feel panicky; he
was courting distress.

"Nothing, mother. I just felt like staying in the reading-room and
reading--"

"Oh, you HAD to do some lessons, didn't you! Miss Roberts should have
known better--"

"I didn't have to stay in--I wanted to."

Martin still kept silent, his eyes looking over the newspaper wide open,
staring, the muscles of his jaw relaxed. The boy was quick to sense that
he was winning--the simple, non-resistance of the lamb was confounding
his father.

"I wanted to stay. I read a book, and then I took a walk, and then I
dropped in at the restaurant for a bite, and then I walked around some
more, and then I went to a movie."

"Billy, what are you saying?"

Martin, slowly putting down his paper, remarked without stressing a
syllable:

"You had better go to bed, Bill; at once, without arguing."

Bill moved towards the parlor, as though to obey. At the door he stopped
a moment and said: "I wasn't arguing; I was just answering mother. She
wanted to know."

"She does not want to know."

"Then I wanted her to know that I don't intend to work after school
any more. I'll do my chores in the morning, but that's all. From now on
nobody can MAKE me do