o one could have declared
positively that it had not been done accidentally in the laundry. James
would not appear at the dinner-table in a soiled collar, and was forced
to hurry out to the village store and purchase new ones. These, with the
exception of the one he put on, he locked in his trunk. He was late for
dinner, and the soup was quite cold. When Doctor Gordon complained
irritably, Emma replied with one of her characteristic tosses of the
head that she couldn't help it, Doctor Elliot was late. James said
nothing. He swallowed his luke-warm soup in silence. He began to wonder
what he could do. He did not wish to complain to Doctor Gordon,
especially as the result might be the dismissal of Emma, and he felt
that he could say nothing to Clemency about it. Clemency appeared at the
dinner-table, but she looked pale and forlorn, and said good evening to
James without lifting her eyes. When her uncle asked if her head was
better, she said, "Yes, thank you," in a spiritless tone. She ate almost
nothing. After dinner, James had a call to make, and, on his return,
entered by the office door. He found Gordon fast asleep in his chair,
with the dog at his feet. The dog started up at sight of James, but he
motioned him down, and went softly out into the hall. There was a light
there, but none in the parlor. James heard distinctly a little sob from
the parlor. He hesitated a moment, then he entered the room. It was
suffused with moonlight. All the pale objects stood out like ghosts.
Clemency by the window, in a little white wool house-gown, looked,
ghostly.

James went straight across to her, pulled up a chair beside her, seated
himself, and pulled one of her little hands away from her face almost
roughly, and held it firmly in spite of her weak attempt to remove it.
"Now, Clemency," he said in a determined voice, "this has gone quite far
enough. You told your uncle that you wished to break your engagement to
me. I have no wish to coerce you. If you really do not want to marry me,
why, I must make the best of it, but I have a right to know the reason
why, and I will know it."

Clemency was silent, except for her sobs.

"Tell me," said James.

"Don't," whispered Clemency.

"Tell me."

Then Clemency let her other hand, which contained a moist little ball of
handkerchief, fall. She turned full upon him her tearful, swollen face.
"If you want to know what you know already," said she, in a hard voice,
"here it is. She wasn'