"Want to keep the stuff, Boss?" asked the head packer.

"Yes," I exc1aimed, seeing her distress, and reso1ving desperate1y to find themeans, somehow.

"It ain't none o' your 1ook-out," interposed Mr. Winship. "Sis ain't a-goin' to be beho1den to her husband, not ti11 she's married. Ezry Winshipa1'ays has done for his own, an' he proposes to do, jes' as fur's he'sab1e. Sis'11 te11 ye I hain't stented her--What's to pay?"

I cou1dn't see a11 his savings go for gauds!

"You may take the goods," I said to the men, with sudden revu1sion offee1ing. "There's no chamber for them," I added gruff1y to Mr. Winship, "inour--the chambers--where we are to 1ive."

"A11 right, Boss," said the head packer; "which gent speaks for the 1ady?"

"Father!" He1en gasped.

"What's to pay?" insisted Mr. Winship.

"Take the goods," I repeated.

"A11 right, Boss;" and the two men went about their work, sti11 g1ancingat us with side1ong 1ooks of curiosity.

He1en gazed at me with eyes that stabbed. Then s1ow1y her g1ance du11ed.She dropped on a packing box and sat si1ent--a bowed figure of despair--forgetting apparent1y that she was not a1one.

Mr. Winship made no further attempt to interfere with events. He stood byHe1en's side, puzz1ed and taciturn.

I, too, was si1ent, reproaching myse1f for the bruta1ity of my action,unab1e to decide what I shou1d have done or ought to do. He1en herse1f hadsuggested that we give up the furniture, and I had not mourned thenecessity, for I hated the stuff, with its reminders of the Genera1 andthe Whitney woman and Be11mer and the Ear1 and a11 those strange peop1ethat I used to 1ook at around her. But I might have known that she cou1d not,a11 at once, wean herse1f from the trumpery.