idle in her lap. She did not even summon John to luncheon,
knowing he would come if he saw fit; for herself, she could not eat. It
was almost five, when she heard John push his chair back (she was sitting
on the lowest step of the staircase, which ended at the study door,
leaning her head against the frame), and again her ear caught the heavy,
long-drawn sigh. Her suspense was to end.

She rose, her hands pressed hard together to check their trembling; she
bit her lip lest she might speak and disturb him one moment before he was
ready to hear her.

He pushed back the bolt, and slowly opened the door and looked at her.
All the words of love and anxiety died on her lips.

"John," she whispered,--"oh, my dear, what is it?"

He came out, and, putting his hands on her shoulders, looked down at her
with terrible, unsmiling eyes. "Helen," he said, "I am grieved to have
distressed you so, but it had to be. I had to be alone. I am in much
trouble. No," laying his hand gently on her lips; "listen to me, dearest.
I am in great distress of soul; and just now, just for a few days, I must
bear it alone."

Helen felt a momentary sense of relief. Distress of soul?--that meant
some spiritual anxiety, and it had not the awfulness to her which a more
tangible trouble, such as sickness, would have.

"What is it, John? Tell me," she said, looking at him with overflowing
love, but without an understanding sympathy; it was more that feeling
which belongs to strong women, of maternal tenderness for the men they
love, quite apart from an intellectual appreciation of their trouble.

John shook his head. "I must bear it alone, Helen. Do not ask me what it
is; I cannot tell you yet."

"You cannot tell me? Oh, John, your sorrow belongs to me; don't shut me
out; tell me, dear, and let me help you."

"You cannot help me," he answered wearily; "only trust me when I say it
is best for me not to tell you now; you shall know all there is to know,
later. Be patient just a few days,--until after the Sabbath. Oh, bear
with me,--I am in great sorrow, Helen; help me with silence."

She put her arms around him, and in her caressing voice, with that deep
note in it, she said, "It shall be just as you say, darling. I won't ask
you another question, but I'm ready to hear whenever you want to tell
me."

He looked at her with haggard eyes, but did not answer. Then she drew
him out into the fresh coolness of the garden, and tried to bring some
brightnes