They seemed almost to say, "If you have not this belief to comfort you,
with the hand of death laid upon your very heart, I grieve inexpressibly
for you."

"If there is, I imagine He must allow Satan to have the control of some of
our lives," was the evasive and bitter retort. "Virgie, Mr. Heath's cup is
empty."

But his face flushed and his hands trembled as he thus abruptly turned the
topic, showing how deeply the subject moved him; notwithstanding his
pretended unbelief.

"Thanks; no more coffee for me," Mr. Heath said, with a smile and a bow to
his young hostess, as she offered to replenish his cup; but he noticed
that there was a troubled, anxious look in her eyes as they rested upon
her father.

He made no reply to Mr. Abbot's remark, although he looked a trifle hurt.

He simply said, as he folded his napkin and pushed back his plate:

"I must ask you to excuse me and my lack of ceremony if I bid you good
morning, and take French leave. I feel that I ought to get on my way as
soon as possible; and believe me I am very grateful for your hospitality
and courtesy."

Virgie arose as he spoke, and like the true little lady that she was,
assured him that it had been a delight to entertain him, and she should
look forward with pleasure to his return.