ng do you expect to be gone, Edward?" Elsie asked.

"Probably a week or ten days, mother," he replied. "Good-by," and in
another instant the carriage rolled away.

Zoe felt stunned, bewildered, as she knelt there leaning her head against
the window frame and watched it till it was out of sight.

"Gone!" she said aloud; "gone without one word of good-by to me, without
telling me he was going, without saying he was sorry for his cruel words
last night, and with Miss Deane. Oh, I know now that he hates me and will
never, never love me again!"

Bitter, scalding tears streamed from her eyes. She rose presently and
began mechanically picking up and putting away his clothes, then made her
usual neat toilet, stopping every now and then to wipe away her tears, for
she was crying all the time.

The breakfast bell rang at the accustomed hour, but she could not bear the
thought of going down and showing her tear-swollen eyes at the table.
Besides, she did not feel hungry; she thought she would never want to eat
again.

After a little, opening the door in answer to a rap, she found Agnes
standing there with a delightful breakfast on a silver waiter--hot coffee,
delicate rolls and muffins, tender beefsteak, and omelet.

"Good-mornin', Miss Zoe," said the girl, walking in and setting her burden
down on a stand. "Miss Elsie she tole me for to fotch up dis yere. She
tink, Miss Elsie do, dat p'raps you'd rather eat yo' breakfus up yere dis
mornin'."

"Yes, so I would, Agnes, though I'm not very hungry. Tell mamma she's very
kind, and I'm much obliged."

"Ya'as, Miss Zoe," and Agnes courtesied and withdrew.

Zoe took a sip of the coffee, tasted the omelet, found a coming appetite,
and went on to make a tolerably hearty meal, growing more cheerful and
hopeful as she ate.

But grief overcame her again as she went about the solitary rooms; it
seemed as if her husband's presence lingered everywhere, and yet as if he
were dead and buried, and she never to see him more.

Not quite a year had elapsed since her father's death, and the scenes of
that day and night and many succeeding ones came vividly before her; the
utter forlornness of her condition, alone in a strange land with a dying
parent, with no earthly comforter at hand, no friend or helper in all the
wide world, and how Edward then flew to her assistance, how kindly he
ministered to her dying father, how tenderly he took her in his arms,
whispering words of love and sympat