as like ice. He laid it on
Reuben's shoulder, repeating, "Read it out."

"'Dear Mr. Gold,'" read Reuben, "I have not answered your esteemed note
until now, though in receipt of it since Thursday.'"

"Thursday?" said Ezra.

"Thursday," repeated Reuben. "'For I dare not seem precipitate in such
a matter. But I have consulted my own heart, and have laid it before the
Throne, knowing no earthly adviser.'"

There was such a tremor in the hand which held him that Reuben's voice
failed for pure pity.

"Yes," said Ezra. "Goon."

"'Dear Mr. Gold,'" read Reuben, in a voice even less steady than before,
"'it shall be as you wish.'" There he paused again, his voice betraying
him.

"Go on," said Ezra.

"'It shall be as you wish, and I trust God may help me to be a worthy
helpmeet. So no more till I hear again from you. R.'"

"That's all?" asked Ezra.

"That's all."

"Thank you, lad, thank you." He stooped as if in the act of sitting
down, and Reuben, passing an arm about his waist, led him to an
armchair. "Thank you, lad," he said again. An eight-day clock ticked in
a neighboring room. "That was how it came to pass," said the old man,
in a voice so strangely commonplace that Reuben started at it. "Ah! That
was how it came to pass." He was silent again for two or three minutes,
and the clock ticked on. "That was how it came to pass," he said again.
With great deliberation he set his hands together, finger by finger, in
the shape of a wedge, and then pushing them between his knees, bent his
head above them, and seemed to stare at the dim pattern of the carpet.
He was silent for a long time now, and sat as still as if he were carved
in stone. "Who's there?" he cried, suddenly looking up.

"I am here, uncle," Reuben answered.

"Yes, yes," said Ezra. "Reuben. Yes, of course. And that was how it came
to pass."

Reuben, with a burning and choking sensation in his throat, stood in his
place, not knowing what to say or do.

"Wheer is it?" asked Ezra, looking up again. Reuben handed him the note,
and he sat with bent head above it for a long time. "Reuben, lad," he
said then, "I'll wish thee a good-mornin'. I'm like to be poor company,
and to tell the truth, lad, I want to be by mysen for a while. I've been
shook a bit, my lad, I've been shook a bit."

As he spoke thus he arose, and with his hands folded behind him walked
to and fro. His face was grayer than common, and the bright color which
generally marked his cheeks