-it was all one. And when dusk crept in, and a grateful
wood-thrush praised it, we still lingered to join in that praise....
Then a whippoorwill began to call insistently, grievously, from very far
off. It was the whippoorwill that shattered my poised crystal moment of
perfect joy.

"Those poor horses," I said.

"Oh!" cried Susan, springing up, "how _could_ we let them starve! I'm
starved, too, Ambo--aren't you? What sillies we are!"

We got home safely, after some trifling difficulties, past ten
o'clock....

_When the lamp is shattered
The light in the dust lies dead----_

Only it doesn't, always--thank God! Memories.... And this was but one.
Oh, no; I was not to be alone. I should never really be alone....

XIII

The morning after Jimmy had dined with us, Susan, at my request, brought
Miss Goucher to my study, and we had a good long talk together. And
first of all the problem of Gertrude loomed before us, starting up
ghostlike at a chance remark, and then barring all progress with more
practical considerations, till laid. Neither Susan's telegram nor her
private interview with Gertrude had been discussed between us; I had
nervously shied off from both matters in my dread of seeming to question
Susan's motives. But now Susan herself, to put it crudely, insisted on a
show-down.

"The air needed clearing, Ambo, and I sent the telegram hoping to clear
it by raising a storm. But, as Sister reminded me at breakfast, storms
don't always clear the air--even good hard ones; they sometimes leave it
heavier than ever. I'm afraid that's what my storm has done. Has it,
Ambo? What happened when Mrs. Hunt came to see you here? But perhaps I
ought to tell you first what happened between us?"

"No," I smiled; "Gertrude made that fairly plain, for once. And your
storm did sweep off the worst of the fog! You see, Gertrude has,
intensely, the virtues of her defects--a fastidious sense of honor among
them. Once she felt her suspicions unjust, she was bound to acknowledge
it. I can't say you won a friend, but you did--by some miracle--placate
a dangerous foe."

"Is she coming back to you, Ambo?"

"No. She suggests divorce. But that of course is impossible!"

"Why?"

"Is it kind to ask?" said Miss Goucher. "And--forgive me, dear--after
your decision, is it necessary for you to know?"

Susan reflected anxiously. "No," she finally responded, "it isn't kind;
but it is necessary. I'll tell you why, Ambo