honest eyes.

He began to be uncomfortable. Her complete trust was producing an
effect even upon his nature. The good that evil can never kill out of
a man was rousing what was very like a sense of shame. "I must go
now," he said with real gentleness in his voice and a look at her that
had real longing in it. He went on: "I shall come as soon as the
shadow passes--I shall come soon, Herzallerliebste!"

She was cheerful to the last. But after he had left she sat
motionless, except for an occasional shiver. From the music-stand came
a Waldteufel waltz, with its ecstatic throb and its long, dreamy swing,
its mingling of joy with foreboding of sadness. The tears streamed
down her cheeks. "He's gone," she said miserably. She rose and went
through the crowd, stumbling against people, making the homeward
journey by instinct alone. She seemed to be walking in her sleep. She
entered the shop--it was crowded with customers, and her father, her
mother and August were bustling about behind the counters. "Here, tie
this up," said her father, thrusting into her hands a sheet of wrapping
paper on which were piled a chicken, some sausages, a bottle of olives
and a can of cherries. She laid the paper on the counter and went on
through the parlor and up the stairs to her plain, neat, little
bedroom. She threw herself on the bed, face downward. She fell at
once into a deep sleep. When she awoke it was beginning to dawn. She
remembered and began to moan. "He's gone! He's gone! He's gone!" she
repeated over and over again. And she lay there, sobbing and calling
to him.

When she faced the family there were black circles around her eyes.
They were the eyes of a woman grown, and they looked out upon the world
with sorrow in them for the first time.

VII

LOVE IN SEVERAL ASPECTS

It was not long before the community was talking of the change in
Hilda, the abrupt change to a gentle, serious, silent woman, the
sparkle gone from her eyes, pathos there in its stead. But not even
her own family knew her secret.

"When is Mr. Feuerstein coming again?" asked her father when a week had
passed.

"I don't know just when. Soon," answered Hilda, in a tone which made
it impossible for such a man as he to inquire further.

Sophie brought all her cunning to bear in her effort to get at the
facts. But Hilda evaded her hints and avoided her traps. After much
thinking she decided that Mr. Feuerstein had probably gone f