s
doubly sure of this, because he was so anxiously thoughtful of them when
they were separated. He expected them to notify him of every slight
change in their plans when they were away, and always telegraphed as to
his own. The only mystery was his going to Canada without letting them
know his plans before or afterwards. It must have been upon some very
suddenly urgent business that took his mind off everything else.

Matt silently hung his head, dreading lest she should ask him what he
thought, and wondering how he must answer if she did. He perceived that
he had no choice but to lie, if she asked him; but when he volunteered
nothing, she did not ask him.

It was the second morning after he had left her; but he could see that
she had lived long since their parting. He thought, "That is the way she
will look as she grows old." The delicate outline of her cheeks showed a
slight straightening of its curve; her lips were pinched; the aquiline
jut of her nose was sharpened. There was no sign of tears in her eyes;
but Adeline wept, and constantly dried her tears with her handkerchief.
She accepted her affliction meekly, as Suzette accepted it proudly, and
she seemed to leave all the conjectures and conclusions to her sister.

Suzette was in the exaltation which death first brings to the bereaved,
when people say that they do not realize it yet, and that they will feel
it later. Then they go about, especially if they are women, in a sort of
hysterical strength; they speak calmly of what has happened; they help
those beyond the immediate circle of their loss to bear up against it;
these look to see them break suddenly under the stress of their
bereavement, and wonder at their impassioned fortitude.

Matt knew neither how to stay nor to get away; it seemed intrusive to
linger, and inhuman to go when he had told the little he had to tell.
Suzette had been so still, so cold, in receiving him, that he was
astonished at her intensity when he rose to leave her at last.

"I shall never forget what you have done for us, Mr. Hilary. Never!
Don't belittle it, or try to make it seem nothing! It was everything! I
wonder you could do it!"

"Yes!" Adeline put in, as if they had been talking his kindness over, as
well as their loss, and were of one mind about it.

"Oh, indeed!" he began. "Any one would have done it--"

"Don't say so!" cried Suzette. "You think that because _you_ would have
done it for any one! But you have done it fo