"We'll have a good, steady horse that won't shy at one, if we have
anything," said Sylvia, and her voice had weight.

"There's a good buggy in Abrahama's barn," said Meeks.

Sylvia made an unexpected start. "I think we are wicked as we can
be!" she declared, violently. "Here we are talking about that poor
woman's things before she's done with them. I'm going right over
there to see if I can't be of some use."

"Sit down, Sylvia," said Henry, soothingly, but he, too, looked both
angry and ashamed.

"You had better keep still where you are to-night," said Meeks. "Miss
Babcock is doing all that anybody can. There isn't much to be done,
Dr. Wallace says. To-morrow you can go over there and sit with her,
and let Miss Babcock take a nap." Meeks rose as he spoke. "I must be
going," he said. "I needn't charge you again not to let anybody know
what I've told you before the will is read. It is irregular, but I
thought I'd cheer up Henry here a bit."

"No, we won't speak of it," declared the husband and wife, almost in
unison.

After Meeks had gone they looked at each other. Both looked
disagreeable to the other. Both felt an unworthy suspicion of the
other.

"I hope she will get well," Sylvia said, defiantly. "Maybe she will.
This is her first shock."