"I'll admit I've done very little; but you, yourself."

"Never mind me. What do you care for me? What does anybody care?"

"Your mother, at least."

"Yes, mother; poor, dear mother.... Oh, my God, I can't stand it, I
can't stand it!" With a sob she broke and sank down by the table, hiding
her face in her arms. Dorian arose to go to her. The door opened, and
the mother appeared.

"What is it, Carlia," she asked in alarm.

The girl raised her head, swiftly dashed the tears from her eyes, then
with a sad effort to smile, said:

"Nothing, mother, nothing at all. I'm going to bed. Where's father?"

"He was called out to Uncle Zed's who is sick. Dorian's mother is there
with him too, I understand."

"Then I'd better go for her," said the young man. "I'll say goodnight.
Poor Uncle Zed; he hasn't been well lately. Goodnight Sister Duke,
goodnight Carlia."

Carlia stood in the doorway leading to the stairs. "Goodnight, Dorian,"
she said. "Forgive me for being so rude."

He stepped toward her, but she motioned him back, and than ran up the
carpetless stairs to her room. Dorian went out in the night. With a