her iconoclastic guest. "John has been giving her part of his wages,
hasn't he?"

"Yes, but he has to call a halt somewhere, my aunt says. She says Liz
can get all the money she needs if she won't throw it away as fast as
she gets it and play her cards so she won't be fined so often."

"Fined?" The word fell from Tilly's irresolute lips in sheer dread of
further revelations. "Fined! What do you mean?"

"'Soaked' by the judge, that is all I know," Dora quoted, indifferently.
"About once a month they both have to go in and pay up or be jugged. Old
Roly-poly said once that he paid the running expenses of this town
himself. What are 'running expenses'? Hanged if I know."

"I don't know." Tilly made an all but somnambulistic reply. Had some
one--even John--died suddenly, she could not have been more shocked.
Even John's support in her terrible strait seemed somehow likely to be
withheld, for how could she go to him with such a matter, seeing that he
had not fully confided in her?

"I must be going now," the weird child remarked. "You see, I sneaked
over and must get home before they wake up. I'll go in by the back way
and change my dress, and they will never know about this lark. At least
that's what I'm counting on. You may tell brother John I was over if
you want to. He won't give me away. I want you to see the doll he sent
me, and her bed and carriage. Gosh! they are scrumptious!"

When Dora had left, Tilly stood at the gate and watched her crossing the
vacant lots till she was out of sight. Then the young wife went back to
her work, but it had lost its charm. She could think of nothing but the
discoveries she had made. She was enabled now to account for hundreds of
discrepancies and omissions in her husband's words and acts in the past.
Now all things were clear--too clear by far for her peace of mind. The
terrible scandal would reach Cranston. It was sure to, eventually, and
all her friends and acquaintances would pity her. And as for Joel
Eperson--why, knowing him as she knew him, it would crush him. Her
marriage already had dealt him a blow, and this would add to his
suffering. As for her parents, she fancied her mother's taking it
stolidly and inexpressively; but her father, ah, that would be a
different matter! She dared not contemplate the effect on his monumental
pride and uncontrollable temper. He would interpret it in terms of
heaven, hell, and eternity. He would be as relentless as a patriarch
ordered b