outgrown things to Roddie. They were not usually badly worn. The sexton's son, whom Gretchen had married, had done well. He had become a successful automobile agent. He lived in Detroit, Michigan, owned two cars, and Gretchen kept two maids.
'What's the matter?' said Sheilah to Roddie, not approaching. He didn't act like a child in pain.
He glanced up at her out of his little bright, slanting eyes, and then down again quickly. He never carried his head high, but now he would have hidden it completely under a wing if he had had one.
'What have you done?' asked Sheilah, her voice more weary than severe in spite of her efforts.
For answer he drew his hands from his trousers pocket and offered her a crumpled note, then pushed by her, and sobbing out loud went into the bedroom Sheilah had just left.
Sheilah opened the note. It was signed by Roddie's teacher. She read it hastily—only the important words registering. 'Not his first offense. Going on all winter more or less. Have talked to him repeatedly. Useless. Thought best to send him home to you—we consider cheating—' She got no further.
Roddie! Cheating!
She closed her eyes a moment and leaned her forehead against the back of her hand that held the crumpled note. Then groped her way to Roddie who
