uch wonders on his mother's cruelly rheumatic limbs,
reassuringly foremost in his mind.

But except that there were not infrequent and sometimes twenty-four-hour
sieges when he was denied the sight of his wife, he had learned, with a
male's acquiescence to the frailties of the other sex, to submit, and,
with no great understanding of pain, to condone.

And as if to atone for these more or less frequent lapses, there was
something pathetic, even a little heartbreaking, in Carrie's zeal for
his well-being. No duty too small. One night she wanted to unlace his
shoes and even shine them--would have, in fact, except for his fierce
catching of her into his arms and for some reason his tonsils aching as
he kissed her.

Once after a "spell" she took out every garment from his wardrobe and,
kissing them piece by piece, put them back again, and he found her so,
and they cried together, he of happiness.

In his utter beatitude, even his resentment of Alma continued to grow
but slowly. Once, when after forty-eight hours she forbade him rather
fiercely an entrance into his wife's room, he shoved her aside almost
rudely, but, at Carrie's little shriek of remonstrance from the
darkened room, backed out shamefacedly, and apologized next day in the
conciliatory language of a tiny wrist watch.

But a break came, as she knew and feared it must.

One evening during one of these attacks, when for two days Carrie had
not appeared at the dinner table, Alma, entering when the meal was
almost over, seated herself rather exhaustedly at her mother's place
opposite her stepfather.

He had reached the stage when that little unconscious usurpation in
itself could annoy him.

"How's your mother?" he asked, dourly for him.

"She's asleep."

"Funny. This is the third attack this month, and each time it lasts
longer. Confound that neuralgia!"

"She's easier now."

He pushed back his plate.

"Then I'll go in and sit with her while she sleeps."

She, who was so fastidiously dainty of manner, half rose, spilling her
soup.

"No," she said, "you mustn't! Not now!" And sat down again hurriedly,
wanting not to appear perturbed.

A curious thing happened then to Louis. His lower lip came pursing
out like a little shelf and a hitherto unsuspected look of pigginess
fattened over his rather plump face.

"You quit butting into me and my wife's affairs, you, or get the hell
out of here," he said, without raising his voice or his manner.

She