at is certainly the most convenient thing to do in this matter," she
retorted, bitterly.

He hesitated, but he went nevertheless, closed the broken door behind
him as well as he could and began to walk up and down his room.

She pressed her forehead against the window-pane and gazed out into the
garden. It had stopped raining; the clouds were lifting in the west and
displaying gleams of the setting sun. Then the heavy masses of fog
broke away and at the same moment the landscape blazed out in brilliant
sunshine like a beautiful woman laughing through her tears.

If _she_ could only weep! They who have a capacity for tears are
favored. Weeping makes the heart light, the mood softer--but there were
no tears for her.

CHAPTER XIV.

In the late twilight the iron-gray horses stopped before the door and
Jenny got out of the carriage.

She ran lightly as a cat up the veranda steps and suddenly stood in the
garden-hall before Frank Linden, who sat at the table alone. Gertrude's
plate was untouched.

"So late, Jenny?" he asked.

"I want to speak to Gertrude."

"You will find my--wife in her room."

Jenny cast a quick glance at him from her bright eyes. Had the blow
fallen? She had nearly died of anxiety at home.

"Is not Gertrude well?" she inquired, innocently.

He hesitated a moment.

"She seems rather excited and tired. I think something has happened to
disturb her in the course of the day."

"Ah, indeed!" said Mrs. Fredericks. "Well, I will go and see her
myself."

She passed through the hall. The lamp was not yet lighted and in the
darkness she stumbled over something and nearly fell. As she uttered a
slight cry, Johanna hastened in with a light.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, ma'am, it is the young lady's trunk, who
arrived about a quarter of an hour ago. Dora forgot to carry it to her
room."

Jenny cast an angry glance at the modest box, ran up the stairs and
knocked at her sister's door.

"It is I, Gertrude," she called out in her clear ringing voice. She
heard light footsteps and the bolt was gently drawn back and the door
opened.

"You, Jenny?" inquired Gertrude, just as Frank had said a few minutes
before, "you, Jenny?"

It was almost dark in the room; Jenny could not see her sister's face.

"Why do you sit here in the dark, Gertrude? I beg of you tell me quick
all that has happened. Mamma and I are dying of anxiety."

"You need have no anxiety," replied Ge