in her complexion. Perhaps she was conscious of it, for she tried to
turn her face away, so that Greif should not see it. Then all at once,
with a heartrending sob, she let her head fall forward upon his
shoulder, while her nervous, wasted hands grasped his two arms
convulsively.

'Oh Greif! I am a very miserable old woman!' she cried.

'What is it, mother? Oh, tell me what is the matter!' he exclaimed, not
knowing what to say, but amazed at the outburst he had so little
anticipated.

For some moments she could say nothing. Greif held her, and prevented
her from slipping off her seat. Looking down, though he could not see
her face, he could see well enough how the tears fell fast and thick
upon the rough sleeve of his shooting coat and trickled down the
woollen material till they rolled off at his elbow. He did not know
what to do, for he had never seen her cry before, and was indeed little
accustomed to woman's weeping.

'Dearest mother,' he said at last, 'I am so sorry for you! If you would
only tell me--'

'Ah Greif-my son--if I thought you loved me--a little--I should be less
unhappy!'

'But I do. Oh, forgive me, if I have never shown you that I do!' He was
in great distress, for he was really moved, and a great wave of
repentance for all his past coldness suddenly overwhelmed his
conscience.