Won't you come here, my child?

_Annie approaches slowly, as if hypnotized._

You're not afraid of me, are you?

ANNIE.

_Shyly._

Not if you won't climb up the rope.

MICHAELIS.

_Puzzled._

Climb up what rope?

RHODA.

It's a story I was foolish enough to tell her.--Do eat something, Auntie.

MRS. BEELER.

I'll drink a little more tea.

_Rhoda raises the cup to Mrs. Beeler's lips._

BEELER.

You can't live on tea, Mary.

MARTHA.

I guess she can live on tea better than on some things!

_With a resentful glance at Michaelis._

Some things that some folks seem to live on, and expect other folks to live on.

_Michaelis looks up from Annie, who has been whispering in his ear.

Beeler nods at Martha in covert approval, as she takes up dishes and goes into the kitchen._

MRS. BEELER.

_Leans forward across the table to Michaelis._

Don't mind my sister-in-law, Mr. Michaelis. It's her way. She means nothing by it.

BEELER.

_Between gulps of coffee, as he finishes his meal._

Don't know as you've got any call to speak for Martha. She generally means what she says, and I guess she means it now. And what's more, I guess I do, too!

MRS. BEELER.

_Beseechingly._

Mat!

BEELER.

_Throws down his napkin and rises._

Very well. It's none of my business, I reckon, as long as it keeps within reason.

_He puts on his cap and goes out through the kitchen._

ANNIE.

_To Michaelis, continuing the whispered conversation._

And if you do climb up the rope, do you promise to come down.

MICHAELIS.

Yes, I promise to come down.

MRS. BEELER.

_Leans over her plate. The others bow their heads._

Bless this food to our use, and this day to our strength and our salvation.

RHODA.

_As they lift their heads._

Perhaps it will be light enough now without the lamp.

_Michaelis, holding Annie's hand, rises, goes to the window, and rolls up the shades, while Rhoda extinguishes the lamp. The fog is still thick, and the light which enters is dull. Rhoda unpins the napkin from her aunt's breast, and wheels her back from the table.

The boy crouches down by the grate, Indian fashion. Annie looks at him with shy, half-frightened interest._

MRS. BEELER.

_Gazing out, from where she sits reclining._

The blessed sun! I never thought to see it rise again so beautiful.