it is the suddenness of the thing, coming without warning and to-night
of all nights, when the house will be full of carousing and champagne.
What will Dolly say! Hysterics of course, if not a sick headache. I
don't believe I can face her till she has had a little time to get over
it. Here, boy, I want, you!' and he rapped at the window at a young lad
who happened to be passing with a basket on his arm. 'I want you to do
an errand for me,' he continued, as the boy entered the office, and,
removing his cap, stood respectfully before him 'Take this telegram to
Mrs. Tracy, and here is a dime for you.'

'Thank you, but I don't care for the money,' the boy said 'I was going
to the park anyway to tell Mrs. Tracy that grandma is sick and can't go
there to-night.'

'Cannot go! Sick! What is the matter?' Mr. Tracy asked, in some dismay,
feeling that here was a fresh cause of trouble and worry for Dolly, as
he designated his wife when off his guard and not on show before his
fashionable friends, to whom she was Dora, or Mrs. Tracy.

'She catched cold yesterday fixing up mother's grave,' the boy replied;
and, as if the mention of that grave had sent Mr. Tracy's thoughts
straying backward to the past, he looked thoughtfully at the child a
moment, and then said:

'How old are you, Harold?'

'Ten, last August,' was the reply; and Mr. Tracy continued:

'You do not remember your mother?'