stores
in the city were closed because Mr. Hastings had extensive business
connections with them. The hotels were closed because Mr. Hastings owned
three of the largest; the Euclid House was shuttered and bolted, and
long lines of heavy crape floated from the numerous doors. Many hats had
been uplifted, many gray heads bared, while the closing words of the
solemn burial service were once more repeated, and then the mourners had
returned to their places, and the long line of carriages had swept back,
and the city had taken down its shutters and opened its doors again, and
the world had rushed onward as before. Only in that one home--there the
desolation tarried. Through all the trouble and the pain Theodore had
been with them constantly. That first day he had accompanied them home
of necessity, their rightful protector being still in his drunken sleep.
Arrived there, they needed help and comfort even more than they had
before. There were friends by the hundreds, but Theodore could not fail
to see that while Mrs. Hastings appeared incapable of directing, and
indeed very indifferent as to what was done, Dora turned steadily and
constantly to him for advice and assistance. Pliny was prevailed upon to
go at once to his room, and was very soon asleep. When the wretched
stupor of sleep had worn itself out upon him, and left the fearful
headache to throb in his temples, Theodore was at his side, grave and
sad and silent, but patient still, and gentle as a woman. Only a few
words passed between them, Pliny speaking first in a cold, hard tone.

"Go away, Mallery, and let me alone--everything is over. All I ask of
you is to send me a bottle of brandy, and never let me see your face
again."

Theodore's only answer was to dip his hand again into cool water, and
pass it gently over the burning temples; then he said:

"I think it would be well to lie still, Pliny. They do not need you
below at present, and your head is very hot."

Pliny pushed feebly with his hand.

"Go away, Mallery, I can not endure the sight of you. It is all over, I
say. I will never try again."

Very quietly and steadily went the firm, cool hand across his forehead,
and the voice that answered him was quiet and firm.

"No, I shall _not_ leave you, dear friend, and all is _not_ over. You
are going to try harder than ever before, and I am _never_ going to give
you up--NEVER!"

Silence for a little, then Pliny said:

"Then don't leave me, Theodore, not fo