ing her in the sitting-room where she would be with the family.So they laid her on the sofa, hemmed around with cushions, and before long she was her quiet self again, though exhausted, naturally, with the tumult of the previous night.Now and then, as the children played about her, a shadow crept over her face -- a shadow as of cold remem-brance -- and then the perplexed tears followed.
When she seemed as well as ever they put her back in her room.But though the fire glowed and the lamp burned, as soon as ever she was alone they heard her shrill cries ring-ing to them that the Evil Thought had come again.So Hal, who was home from col-lege, carried her up to his room, which she seemed to like very well.Then he went down to have a smoke before grandma's fire.
The next morning he was absent from break-fast.They thought he might have gone for an early walk, and waited for him a few min-utes.Then his sister went to the room that looked upon the larches, and found him dressed and pacing the floor with a face set and stern.He had not been in bed at all, as she saw at once.His eyes were bloodshot, his face stricken as if with old age or sin or -- but she could not make it out.When he saw her he sank in a chair and covered his face with his hands, and between the trembling fingers she could see drops of perspiration on his forehead.
"Hal!" she cried, "Hal, what is it?"
But for answer he threw his arms about the little table and clung to it, and looked at her with tortured eyes, in which she fancied she saw a gleam of hate.She ran, screaming, from the room, and her father came and went up to him and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders.And then a fearful thing hap-pened.All the family saw it.There could be no mistake.Hal's hands found their way with frantic eagerness toward his father's throat as if they would choke him, and the look in his eyes was so like a madman's that his father raised his fist and felled him as he used to fell men years before in the college fights, and then dragged him into the sitting-room and wept over him.
By evening, however, Hal was all right, and the family said it must have been a fever, --perhaps from overstudy, -- at which Hal cov-ertly smiled.But his father was still too anxious about him to let him out of his sight, so he put him on a cot in his room, and thus it chanced that the mother and Grace con-cluded to sleep together downstairs.
The two women made a sort of festival of it, and drank little cups of chocolate before the fire, and undid and brushed their brown braids, and smiled at each other, understand-ingly, with that sweet intuitive sympathy which women have, and Grace told her mother a number of things which she had been waiting for just such an auspicious oc-casion to confide.
But the larches were noisy and cried out with wild voices, and the flame of the fire grew blue and swirled about in the draught sinuously, so that a chill crept upon the two.
Something cold appeared to envelop them --such a chill as pleasure voyagers feel when a berg steals beyond Newfoundland and glows blue and threatening upon their ocean path.
Then came something else which was not cold, but hot as the flames of hell -- and they saw red, and stared at each other with mad-dened eyes, and then ran together from the room and clasped in close embrace safe beyond the fatal place, and thanked God they had not done the thing that they dared not speak of -- the thing which suddenly came to them to do.
So they called it the room of the Evil Thought.They could not account for it.
They avoided the thought of it, being healthy and happy folk.But none entered it more.
The door was locked.
One day, Hal, reading the paper, came across a paragraph concerning the young min-ister who had once lived there, and who had thought and written there and so influenced the lives of those about him that they remem-bered him even while they disapproved.
"He cut a man's throat on board ship for Australia," said he, "and then he cut his own, without fatal effect -- and jumped overboard, and so ended it.What a strange thing!"Then they all looked at one another with subtle looks, and a shadow fell upon them and stayed the blood at their hearts.
The next week the room of the Evil Thought was pulled down to make way for a pansy bed, which is quite gay and innocent, and blooms all the better because the larches, with their eternal murmuring, have been laid low and carted away to the sawmill.
