"No; we have left Chicago. Mrs. Rogers has merely
remained to finish up a little packing."

"Oh, indeed! Are you coming back to Boston?"

"I cannot say as yet. We sometimes think of so doing."

Lapham turned away and looked up at the building.
His wife pulled a little at her glove, as if embarrassed,
or even pained. She tried to make a diversion.

"We are building a house," she said, with a meaningless laugh.

"Oh, indeed," said Mr. Rogers, looking up at it.

Then no one spoke again, and she said helplessly--

"If you come to Boston, I hope I shall see Mrs. Rogers."

"She will be happy to have you call," said Mr Rogers.

He touched his hat-brim, and made a bow forward rather
than in Mrs. Lapham's direction.

She mounted the planking that led into the shelter of
the bare brick walls, and her husband slowly followed.
When she turned her face toward him her cheeks were burning,
and tears that looked hot stood in her eyes.