would have to change for
the Mills, that would take him beyond the Junction at that hour last
night. The express has to come up from Boston--" She stopped and ran
over the time-table of the route. "Well, he _could_ get a connecting
train at the Junction; but that doesn't prove at all that he did."

She talked on, mocking the mere suggestion of such a notion, and then
suddenly rang the bell once more, to ask sharply, "Isn't lunch ready
yet? Then bring us tea, here. I shall telegraph to the Mills again, and
I shall telegraph to Mr. Hilary in Boston; he will know whether father
was going anywhere else. They had a meeting of the Board day before
yesterday, and father went to the Mills unexpectedly. I shall telegraph
to Ponkwasset Junction, too; and you may be sure I shall not come home,
Adeline, till I know something definite."

The tea came, and Suzette served the cups herself, with nerves that
betrayed no tremor in the clash of silver or china. But she made haste,
and at the sound of sleigh-bells without, she put down her own cup,
untasted.

"Oh, must you take Mr. Wade away?" Adeline feebly pleaded. "Stay till
she comes back!" she entreated.

Suzette faltered a moment, and then with a look at Mr. Wade, she gave a
harsh laugh. "Very well!" she said.

She ran into the hall and up the stairs, and in another moment they
heard her coming down again; the outer door shut after her, and then
came the flutter of the sleigh-bells as she drove away.

Over the lunch the elder sister recovered herself a little, and ate as
one can in the suspense of a strong emotion.

"Your sister is a person of great courage," said the clergyman, as if he
were a little abashed by it.

"She would never show that she's troubled. But I know well enough that
she's troubled, by the way she kept talking and doing something every
minute; and now, if she hadn't gone to telegraph, she'd--I mustn't keep
you here, any longer, Mr. Wade," she broke off in the sense of physical
strength the food had given her. "Indeed, I mustn't. You needn't be
anxious. I shall do very well, now. Yes! I shall!"

She begged him to leave her, but he perceived that she did not really
wish him to go, and it was nearly an hour after Suzette drove away,
before he got out of the house. He would not let her send him home; and
he walked toward the village in the still, sunny cold of the early
winter afternoon, thinking of the sort of contempt with which that girl
had spurned the