a tremor in her voice. She wanted to run away and cry off the great
flood of sympathy that was choking her. "Dear lady, may I kiss
you?" she wanted to say. "Poor dear! she needs brooding." This Susan
thought, and she wished she dared put out her arms and draw the sad
face to her bosom, the sad heart against her own.

They talked over their plans, and then Mrs. Patterson and the little
girl went home with Susan.

During Mrs. Patterson's stay with the Summerhazes, Mr. Falconer made
frequent calls, though his movements were marked by great caution,
lest they might betray the pursued wife to her husband. These calls
were of a general character, designed for the household, and not
exclusively for Mrs. Patterson. And they were continued after the lady
had returned to No. 649. But they were to Susan tortures. They were
but opportunities for noting the interest between Mr. Falconer and
Gertrude. This was evident not alone to Susan, or she might have had
some chance of charging it to the invention of her jealousy. Tom and
Mrs. Summerhaze had both remarked it.

"He's well to do, Tom says, and stands respectable with the
business-men," the mother commented to Susan; "and Gertrude 'pears
fond of him, and he does of her; so I can't see any good reason why
they shouldn't marry if they want one another. Anyhow, it's better for
girls to marry and settle down and learn to housekeep--"

"Yes, yes," cried Susan's heart with pathetic impatience, "it's
better, but--"

"Instead of going to parties in thin shoes and cobweb frocks: I wonder
they don't all take the dipthery. And then they set up till morning.
I couldn't ever stand that: I'd be laid up with sick headache every
time. Besides, they eat them unhealthy oysters and Charlotte rooshes,
and such like: no wonder so many people get the dyspepsy. Yes, I think
Gertrude had better take Mr. Falconer if he wants her to. Ain't that
your mind about it, Susan?"

"She had better accept him if--if--they love each other." Then Susan
grew faint and soul-sick, and something in her heart seemed to die, as
though she had spoken the fatal words that made them each other's for
ever--that cut her loose from her sweet romance and sent her drifting
into the gloom.

That evening Mr. Falconer called. Susan said she was not well, and
kept her room. Gertrude had planned to go to the opera with Tom, but
she decided to remain at home. Long after Tom had gone out Susan in
her chamber above could hear from