With head bowed in thought she moved away, disappearing into the gray dusk, while Jane, on her part, left the window and went to the open front door. Conscientiously, she did not cross the threshold, but restrained herself to looking out. On the steps of the porch sat William, alone, his back toward the house.
“Willie?” said Jane, softly; and, as he made no response, she lifted her voice a little. “Will-ee!”
“Whatchwant!” he grunted, not moving.
“Willie, I told mamma I was sorry I made you feel so bad.”
“All right!” he returned, curtly.
“Well, when I haf to go to bed, Willie,” she said, “mamma told me because I made you feel bad I haf to go up-stairs by myself, to-night.”
She paused, seeming to hope that he would say something, but he spake not.
“Willie, I don't haf to go for a while yet, but when I do—maybe in about a half an hour—I wish you'd come stand at the foot of the stairs till I get up there. The light's lit up-stairs, but down around here it's kind of dark.”
He did not answer.
“Will you, Willie?”