her own health,
and at some length. She then branched off upon the weather. All her T's
were so preternaturally acute that they snapped like a drop of rain
falling into a fire; when she said "we" or "week," she brought out the
vowel-sound so distinctly that her thin lips widened themselves flatly
over her small teeth, and her mouth became the centre of a sharp
triangle whose apex was the base of the nose, and the sides two deep
lines that extended outward diagonally to the edge of the jaws. So far,
she was displaying unusual formality with the friend she had found so
satisfying. The friend betrayed no consciousness of any change, he saw
that she wished to keep the direction of the conversation in her own
hands, and he did not interfere with her desire; he was sure that she
had something to say, and that in her own good time she would bring it
forth. And she did. After treating him to twenty minutes of
pronunciations, she folded her hands closely and with the same crisp
utterance remarked: "My daughter is in the rose garden, I should like to
have you see her before you go. I shall not accompany you, I shall ask
you to do me the favor of seeing her alone."

He could not help smiling a little, in spite of the repressed tragedy of
the tone. "Favor?" he repeated.

"Yes, favor," responded Mrs. Thorne, in a slightly higher key, though
her voice remained musical, as it always was. "Favor, indeed! Wait till
you see her. Listen, Mr. Winthrop; I want you to be very gentle with
Edgarda now." And, leaning forward, she touched his arm impressively
with her finger.

Winthrop always felt an immense pity for this little mother, she was
racked by so many anxieties of which the ordinary world knew nothing,
the comfortable world of Mrs. Rutherford and Mrs. Carew; that these
anxieties were exaggerated, did not render them any the less painful to
the woman who could not perceive that they were.

"Of course I shall be gentle," he said, taking her hand cordially. As he
held it he could feel the hard places on the palm which much household
toil, never neglected, though never mentioned, had made there.

"But when you see her, when you hear her talk, it may not be so easy,"
responded Mrs. Thorne, looking at him with an expression in her eyes
which struck him as containing at the same time both entreaty and
defiance.

"It will always be easy, I think, for me to be gentle with Garda,"
responded Winthrop; and his own tone was gentle enough a