osed the door.

In the morning, however, he was up and out nearly an hour before the
usual time. Jadvyga Marcinkus lived on the other side of the yards,
beyond Halsted Street, with her mother and sisters, in a single basement
room--for Mikolas had recently lost one hand from blood poisoning, and
their marriage had been put off forever. The door of the room was in the
rear, reached by a narrow court, and Jurgis saw a light in the window
and heard something frying as he passed; he knocked, half expecting that
Ona would answer.

Instead there was one of Jadvyga's little sisters, who gazed at him
through a crack in the door. "Where's Ona?" he demanded; and the child
looked at him in perplexity. "Ona?" she said.

"Yes," said Jurgis, "isn't she here?"

"No," said the child, and Jurgis gave a start. A moment later came
Jadvyga, peering over the child's head. When she saw who it was, she
slid around out of sight, for she was not quite dressed. Jurgis must
excuse her, she began, her mother was very ill--

"Ona isn't here?" Jurgis demanded, too alarmed to wait for her to
finish.

"Why, no," said Jadvyga. "What made you think she would be here? Had she
said she was coming?"

"No," he answered. "But she hasn't come home--and I thought she would be
here the same as before."

"As before?" echoed Jadvyga, in perplexity.

"The time she spent the night here," said Jurgis.

"There must be some mistake," she answered, quickly. "Ona has never
spent the night here."

He was only half able to realize the words. "Why--why--" he exclaimed.
"Two weeks ago. Jadvyga! She told me so the night it snowed, and she
could not get home."

"There must be some mistake," declared the girl, again; "she didn't come
here."

He steadied himself by the door-sill; and Jadvyga in her anxiety--for
she was fond of Ona--opened the door wide, holding her jacket across
her throat. "Are you sure you didn't misunderstand her?" she cried. "She
must have meant somewhere else. She--"

"She said here," insisted Jurgis. "She told me all about you, and how
you were, and what you said. Are you sure? You haven't forgotten? You
weren't away?"

"No, no!" she exclaimed--and then came a peevish voice--"Jadvyga, you
are giving the baby a cold. Shut the door!" Jurgis stood for half a
minute more, stammering his perplexity through an eighth of an inch of
crack; and then, as there was really nothing more to be said, he excused
himself and went away.

He walked on