was intolerable that such a person should be so silly.

She wondered what sorrow would do for him. She had come down from
Scotland the night before, and down here to Herefordshire this
morning; she had not then yet seen him; and he was now at the
funeral....

Well, sorrow would be his test. How would he take it?

Mrs. Baxter broke in on her meditations.

"Maggy, darling ... do you think you can do anything? You know I once
hoped...."

The girl looked up suddenly, with so vivid an air that it was an
interruption. The old lady broke off.

"Well, well," she said. "But is it quite impossible that--"

"Please, don't. I--I can't talk about that. It's impossible--utterly
impossible."

The old lady sighed; then she said suddenly, looking at the clock
above the oak mantelshelf, "It is half-past. I expect--"

She broke off as the front door was heard to open and close beyond the
hall, and waited, paling a little, as steps sounded on the flags; but
the steps went up the stairs outside, and there was silence again.

"He has come back," she said. "Oh! my dear."