But we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes marchin' home."

When Daniel Burton, this morning, therefore, heard Susan singing this
song, he was in no doubt as to Susan's state of mind--a fact which
certainly did not add to his own serenity.

Upstairs, Keith, wearily indifferent as to everything that was taking
place about him, lay motionless as usual, his face turned toward the
wall.

And at ten o'clock Mrs. Colebrook went. Five minutes later Daniel
Burton entered the kitchen--a proceeding so extraordinary that Susan
broke off her song in the middle of a "Hurrah" and grew actually pale.

"What is it?--KEITH? Is anything the matter with Keith?" she faltered.

Ignoring her question the man strode into the room.

"Well, Susan, this time you've done it," he ejaculated tersely.

"Done it--to Keith--ME? Why, Mr. Burton, what do you mean? Is Keith--
worse?" chattered Susan, with dry lips. "It was only a little hash I
took up. He simply won't eat that oatmeal stuff, an'--"

"No, no, I don't mean the hash," interrupted the man irritably. "Keith
is all right--that is, he is just as he has been. It's my sister, Mrs.
Colebrook. She's gone."

"Gone--for good?"