aled in her eyes, he stopped and
talked and smiled at her, as Deborah was doing, enjoying her beauty and her
youth, her love and all her happiness. And though they spoke of her sister,
she knew they were thinking of herself, and that it was quite right they
should, for it gave them a little relief from their gloom. She was honestly
sorry for Edith, but she was sorrier still for Bruce, who she knew had
always liked her more than he would have cared to say. She was sorrier for
Bruce because, while Edith had lost only her husband, Bruce had lost his
very life. And life meant so much to Laura, these days, the glowing,
coursing, vibrant life of her warm beautiful body. She was thinking of that
as she stood in the hall.

* * * * *

In the evening, at home in his study, Roger heard a slight knock at the
door. He looked up and saw John.

"May I come in, Mr. Gale, for a minute?"

"Yes, my boy." John hobbled in.

"Only a minute." His voice was embarrassed. "Just two or three things I
thought of," he said. "The first was about your son-in-law. You see, I was
his stenographer--and while I was in his office--this morning helping
Doctor Baird--I found a good deal I can do there still--about things no one
remembers but me. So I'll stay there awhile, if it's all right. Only--" he
paused--"without any pay. See what I mean?"

"Yes, I see," said Roger. "And you'd better stay--in that way if you like."

"Thanks," said John. "Then about his wife and family. You're to take them
up to the mountains, I hear--and--well, before this happened you asked _me_
up this summer. But I guess I'd better not."

"I don't think you'd be in the way, my boy."

"I'd rather stay here, if you don't mind. When I'm through in your
son-in-law's office I thought I might go back to yours. I could send you
your mail every two or three days."

"I'd like that, John--it will be a great help."

"All right, Mr. Gale." John stopped at the door. "And Miss Deborah," he
ventured. "Is she to get married just the same?"

"Oh, yes, I think so--later on."

"Good-night, sir."

And John went out of the room.

When _would_ Deborah be married? It came over Roger, when he was alone, how
his family had shifted its center. Deborah would have come here to live,
to love and be happy, a mother perhaps, but now she must find a home of her
own. In her place would come Edith with her children. All would center on
her in her grief.

And for no