"Now, look here, Aunt Soph! I'm fond of you but if you're going to talk
that way--Why, she's wonderful. She's taught me what it means to
really--"

"Oh, my land!" Aunt Sophy sat down, looking, suddenly, very sick and
old.

And then, from the kitchen, Adele's clear young voice: "Heh! What's the
idea! I'm not going to do all the work. Where's everybody?"

Aunt Sophy started up again. She came up to them and put a hand--a
capable, firm, steadying hand on the arm of each. The woman drew back
but the boy did not.

"Will you promise me not to do anything for a week? Just a week! Will
you promise me? Will you?"

"Are you going to tell Father?"

"Not for a week if you'll promise not to see each other in that week.
No, I don't want to send you away, Julia, I don't want to--You're not a
bad girl. It's just--he's never had--at home they never gave him a
chance. Just a week, Julia. Just a week, Eugene. We can talk things over
then."

Adele's footsteps coming from the kitchen.

"Quick!"

"I promise," said Eugene. Julia said nothing.