Ernest was annoyed and surprised.

"I thought we had done with these things," he said, and gathering up
the papers he went off.

I rose and locked my door and threw myself down upon the floor in an
agony of shame, anger, and physical exhaustion. I did not know how
large a part of what seemed mere childish ill-temper was really the
cry of exasperated nerves, that had been on too strained a tension,
and silent too long, and Ernest did not know it either. How could he?
His profession kept him for hours every day in the open air; there
were times when his work was done and he could take entire rest; and
his health is absolutely perfect. But I did not make any excuse for
myself at the moment. I was overwhelmed with the sense of my utter
unfitness to be a wife and a mother.

Then I heard Ernest try to open the door; and finding it locked, he
knocked, calling pleasantly:

"It is I, darling; let me in."

I opened it reluctantly enough.

"Come," he said, "put on your things and drive about with me on my
rounds. I have no long visits to make, and while I am seeing my
patients you will be getting the air, which you need."

"I do not want to go," I said. "I do not feel well enough. Besides,
there's my work." "You can't see to sew with these red eyes," he