many "counts." He could not discuss the matter with his
wife; he carefully kept from her the newspaper story of the smash-up.
The hotel to which the Willings had retired for repairs was mentioned,
and Bassett resolved to go to Chicago and bring Marian home.

The best available train passed Waupegan Station at midnight, and he sat
alone on his veranda that evening with anger against Marian still hot in
his heart. He had yet to apprise Mrs. Bassett of his intended journey,
delaying the moment as long as possible to minimize her inevitable
querulous moanings. Blackford was in his room studying, and Bassett had
grimly paced the veranda for half an hour when the nurse came down with
a request that he desist from his promenade, as it annoyed Mrs. Bassett
in her chamber above.

He thereupon subsided and retired to the darkest corner of the veranda.
A four-hour vigil lay before him, and he derived no calm from the still
stars that faintly shadowed the quiet waters below. He was assailed by
torments reserved for those who, having long made others writhe without
caring that they suffered, hear the swish of the lash over their own
heads. He had only lately been conscious of his growing irritability. He
hated men who yield to irritation; it was a sign of weakness, a failure
of self-mastery. He had been carried on by a strong tide, imagining that
he controlled it and guided it. He had used what he pleased of the
apparatus of life, and when any part of the mechanism became
unnecessary, he had promptly discarded it. It angered him to find that
he had thrown away so much, that the mechanism was no longer as
responsive as it had been. The very peace of the night grated upon him.

A light step sounded at the end of the veranda. A figure in white was
moving toward the door, and recognizing Sylvia, he rose hastily and
advanced to meet her.

"Is that you, Mr. Bassett? I ran over with a new grammar for Blackford
that he will like better than the one he's using. I've marked his lesson
so he can look it over before I come in the morning. How is Mrs.
Bassett?"

"She's very tired and nervous to-night. Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you, no. If it isn't too late I'll run up and see Mrs. Bassett
for a moment."

"I think you'd better not. The nurse is trying to get her to sleep."

"Oh, then of course I shan't stop," and Sylvia turned to go. "How soon
will Marian be home?"

"To-morrow evening; I'm going up to get her to-night," he answered