t had joined them that
unhappy night.

"I just heard, Joe. It was terrible. I was awfully distressed."

He looked into her eyes--she spoke so earnestly--and wondered if she
were feeling all she might feel. Uncle Buzz had not received very
charitable treatment at her hands. The picture of it all came before
his mind and he said nothing.

"When is--when is the funeral?"

"It's all over," he replied shortly. "This afternoon."

"Oh."

She turned and had a word with her companion. And then he leaned over,
partly across her, smiling quietly.

"We're going right back in an hour or so. Be glad to have you go with
us. There's plenty of room." His voice was big and rather pleasant and
he had an air of careless assumption that everything would be all
right.

"Yes, do, Joe," Mary Louise put in. "I had John drive me up this
afternoon. I wanted to get here in time for----Aunt Susie wanted some
things."

It was quite natural the way she said, "I had John----"

"It will be better than going back on that morning train--to-morrow?
And I suppose you'll have to be back at the office Monday?" He had
never known her voice to be so solicitously sweet.

"No," he said, and he surprised himself, "I'm not going back." He had
come to no such decision. But the idea was suddenly so utterly
distasteful that it seemed impossible. And _she_ having _him_,
Claybrook, take him, Joe, back to work. The smart of it was
intolerable. "No," he repeated firmly, "I'm not going back." And then
he gazed off across the hood of the motor into the vacant field
beyond.

"I see," she replied, rather softly, and he could feel that she was
watching him and that Claybrook was, in a way, standing by in a
condescending attitude, ready to do her bidding.

He was anxious to be off, anxious to be alone. "Thank you very much,
however," he said, and bowed to Claybrook. He avoided Mary Louise's
eyes. He backed away from the car and lifted his hat. "Good-bye."

Turning away, he set off down the road, away from Bloomfield, and
shortly he heard the motor start and the grind of wheels. He looked
back. He saw her lean over as though to speak to Claybrook. And then
he saw Claybrook turn his face toward hers. They were probably talking
about him.

He trudged on down the road, although he had no idea of where he was
going. There was a soreness deep down in his heart and it hurt all the
more because he realized that he had been unreasonable. And he had
said he was not