Mrs. Denham.

I can bear my burden alone, Miss Macfarlane. (_Crosses_ C.)

Miss Macfarlane.

Of course you can, my dear. But there's no harm in a little honest
sympathy.

Mrs. Denham.

(_sobbing and embracing her_) Oh, I beg your pardon! But I am so
miserable, so miserable!

Miss Macfarlane.

There, there--that's right. (_Leads Mrs. Denham to sofa._) And now
you can tell me or not, just as you like.

Mrs. Denham.

What is there to tell? It is all over--that is all. (_She sits down,
weeping._)

Miss Macfarlane.

But what's all over? We sometimes think things are all over, when
they're only beginning. A thunderstorm's not the Day of Judgment. It
clears the air.