Carroll pulled her head against his shoulder.  “Dear,” he whispered, “don’t; you must not, darling, you are worn out.  You are not well.”

“Arthur, are you sure—­are you sure that you have not rendered yourself liable?  Arthur, are you sure that they cannot arrest you for anything you have done this time?”

“Quite sure, Anna.”

“You have looked out for that?”

“Yes.”

“They can’t arrest you?”

“No.  Anna, you are nervous.”

“Martin was impudent yesterday, when you were out, about his pay.  He talked about going to a lawyer.”

Carroll made an impatient movement.  “If he does not stop coming to you about it—­”

“He is afraid of you.  Then Maria came and cried.  She says she has lost her lover, because she did not have decent clothes to wear.”

“Anna, they shall not trouble you again.  Don’t, dear.  Why, I never knew you to fret so before!”

“I never did.  I never minded it all so much before.  I think I am ill.  There is a dull pain all the time in the back of my neck, and I do not sleep at all well.  Then my mental attitude seems suddenly to have changed.  I was capable of defiance always, of seeing the humor in the situation, even if it was such an oft-repeated joke, and such a mighty poor one; but now, even if I start with a glimpse of the funny side of it, suddenly I collapse, and all at once I am beaten.”

Carroll stroked her graceful, dark head.  “There is nothing for it but you must go, honey.”

“Arthur, I will not.  It may be better for the others, but as for me, I will not.”

“Yes, you will, Anna, honey.”

“Arthur Carroll!”

“You must, dear.  Frankly, Anna, you know how I shall feel about parting with you all, but it will be a load off my mind.  If a man is not able to care for his own, it is better for him and for them that they should go where they will be cared for.”

“You need not speak in that way, Arthur.  You have done all you could.  All this would never have been if it had not been for us, and your wanting us to have everything.  We have been a helpless lot.  None of us have ever blamed you or complained, not even Amy, baby as she is.”

“I know it, dear, but it is better for you all to go.”

“You have done all you could, always,” Anna repeated, in a curious, sullen fashion.

“Well, we will leave that.  If Aunt Catherine takes you all this winter, it will go hard if I do not pay her in some way later on; but the point is now, you must all go.”

Anna shook her head obstinately.

Carroll bent down and kissed her.  “Good-night, dear,” he said.  “Try to sleep.”

“I wonder if those people are all gone.”

“Yes, I think so.  I heard Marie lock the door.  Good-night.”

Anna rose and threw her arms around her brother’s neck.  “Whatever happens, you have got your old sister left,” she said, with a soft sob.