r than nothing. He had also
rented a tenement in a "three-family" house on the Thorley estate, to
which they would move as soon as possible. It was important to make the
change, so as to be settled when Matt came out of jail. Both Rosie and
her mother were glad that he wouldn't be free till the 10th of July,
because the lease terminated on the 9th. He would return, therefore, to
absolutely new conditions, and there would be no necessity of going over
any of the old ground again. As far as they were concerned--Rosie and
her mother--the sooner they went the better they would like it, since
they had to go; but "poor father," Rosie said, with a catch in her
voice, "won't leave till the last minute has struck. Even then," she
added, "I think they'll have to drive him off. This place has been his
life. I don't think he'll last long after he's had to leave it."

Having given sympathetic views on these points as they came up, Lois
rose to depart. She had actually shaken hands and turned away when Rosie
seemed to utter a little cry. That is, her words came out with the
emotion of a cry. "Mrs. Masterman! I want to ask you something!"

Lois turned in surprise. "Yes, Rosie? What?"

With one hand Rosie clung to the staging for support. The back of the
other hand was pressed against her lips. She could hardly speak. "Is--is
Claude staying away on my account?" Before Lois could answer, Rosie
added, "Because he--he needn't."

Lois wondered. "What do you mean by that, Rosie?"

"Only that--that he needn't. I--I don't care whether he stays away or
not."

Lois took a step back toward the girl. "You mean that it doesn't make
any difference to you what he does?"

She shook her head. "No; not now; not--not any more."

"That is, you've given him up?"

Rosie sought for an explanation. "I haven't given him up. I
only--_see_."

"You see what, Rosie?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's--it's like having had a dream--a strange, awful
dream--and waking from it."

"Waking from it?"

Rosie nodded. She made a further effort to explain. "After I--I
did--what I did--that day at Duck Rock--everything was different. I
can't describe it. It was like dying--and coming back. It was like--like
waking."

"Do you mean that what happened before seemed--unreal?"

She nodded again. "Yes, that's it. It was like a play." But she
corrected herself quickly. "No; it wasn't like a play. It was more than
that. It was like a dream--an awful dream--but a dream you