somewhat apart from the family, perhaps because "mother's doing anything" was looked upon either as a joke or a reflection on the social status. So I forbore and tried to satisfy my uneasiness by reflecting that writing seemed laborious to unaccustomed hands, and her silence might betoken nothing more serious than good intentions indefinitely postponed.
But now comes the problem. I was startled out of my complacency about Mrs. Willkit's disappearance into the voids by accidentally coming upon her husband's name in an old bit of newspaper Charlotte had used to cover the plate-warmer on top of the range. It appeared in connection with the report of some committee on municipal affairs, insignificant in itself, but with it was given the same address as that to which the family had been moored when still here. What did it mean? Had the Willkits never moved away? Had Mrs. Willkit not had courage to confess to me the falling through of their plans?
Cogitating over this, there dawned upon me in course of time a still darker surmise. Had Mrs. Willkit found the weight of our intercourse with its givings and takings, too heavy
