was afraid to have
Babbie play with the other children. I was--but there, I won't
talk about it. I can't. And I cannot have it begin again here.
I'll go away first. We will all go away, out West, anywhere--
anywhere where we can be--clean--and like other people."

Jed was conscious of a cold sensation, like the touch of an icicle,
up and down his spine. Going away! She and Babbie going away! In
his mind's eye he saw a vision of the little house closed once more
and shuttered tight as it used to be. He gasped.

"Now, now, Mrs. Armstrong," he faltered. "Don't talk about goin'
away. It--it isn't needful for you to do anything like that. Of
course it ain't. You--you mustn't. I--we can't spare you."

She drew a long breath. "I would go to the other end of the
world," she said, "rather than tell Captain Hunniwell the truth
about my brother. I told you because Babbie had told you so much
already. . . . Oh," turning swiftly toward him, "YOU won't tell
Captain Hunniwell, will you?"

Before he could answer she stretched out her hand. "Oh, please
forgive me," she cried. "I am not myself. I am almost crazy, I
think. And when you first told me about the position in the bank I
was so happy. Oh, Mr. Winslow, isn't there SOME way by which
Charles could have that chance? Couldn't--couldn't he get it and--
and work there for--for a year perhaps, until they all saw what a
splendid fellow he was, and THEN tell them--if it seemed necessary?
They would know him then, and like him; they couldn't help it,
every one likes him."

She brushed the tears from her eyes. Poor Jed, miserable and most
unreasonably conscience-stricken, writhed in his chair. "I--I
don't know," he faltered. "I declare I don't see how. Er--er--
Out in that bank where he used to work, that Wisconsin bank, he--
you said he did first-rate there?"

She started. "Yes, yes," she cried, eagerly. "Oh, he was splendid
there! And the man who was the head of that bank when Charles was
there is an old friend of ours, of the family; he has retired now
but he would help us if he could, I know. I believe . . . I wonder
if . . . Mr. Winslow, I can't tell any one in Orham of our disgrace
and I can't bear to give up that opportunity for my brother. Will
you leave it to me for a little while? Will you let me think it
over?"

Of course Jed said he would and went back to his little room over
the shop. As he was leaving she put out her hand and said,