sely.

"She was a good woman, then?"

"Very good."

"Well, life must be lonesome for a widower, especially if he has no
children. But perhaps he has some married or at school?"

"No, he has no children, and no relations, to speak of."

"And he brought that clock from Switzerland? Did he ever say from what
part of Switzerland?"

"If he did, I don't remember; I've no memory for foreign names."

This sent Sweetwater off on another tack. He knew such a good story,
which, having told, he seemed to have forgotten all about the clock, for
he said nothing more about it, and not much more about Mr. Roberts.

But when, a little later, he followed her into that gentleman's room for
the purpose of unlocking a trunk which had been delivered that day, he
took advantage of her momentary absence in search of the key to pull out
that cuckoo-clock from the wall where it hung and read the small slip of
paper pasted across its back. As he hoped, it gave both the name and
address of the merchant from whom it had been bought. But that was not
all. Running in diagonal lines across this label, he saw some faded
lines in fine handwriting, which proved to be a couplet signed with
five initials. The latter were not quite legible, but the couplet he
could read without the least difficulty. It was highly sentimental, and
might mean much and might mean nothing. If the handwriting should prove
to be Mr. Roberts', the probabilities were in favor of the former
supposition--or so he said to himself, as he swung the clock back into
place.

When Mrs. Weston returned, he was standing as patiently as possible in
the middle of the room, saying over and over to himself to insure
remembrance till he could jot the lines down in his notebook: _Bossberg,
Lucerne.... I love but thee--and thee will I love to eternity._

His interest in this slight and doubtful clue, however, sank into
insignificance when, having unlocked and unstrapped the trunk which Mrs.
Weston pointed out, he saw to his infinite satisfaction that it held Mr.
Roberts' clothing--the one thing in the world toward which at this exact
moment his curiosity mainly pointed. If only he might help her handle the
heavy coats which lay so temptingly on top! Should he propose to do so?
Looking at her firm chin and steady eye, he felt that he did not dare. To
rouse the faintest suspicion in this woman's intelligent mind would be
fatal to all further procedure, and so he stood indifferent, while she