r. Perry's advice about showing one or two of the briefer
letters and the locket to his mother. After her fainting fit and the
exhaustion that followed it, Ivory begged her to see the old doctor, but
without avail. Finally, after days of pleading he took her hands in his
and said: "I do everything a mortal man can do to be a good son to you,
mother; won't you do this to please me, and trust that I know what is
best?" Whereupon she gave a trembling assent, as if she were agreeing
to something indescribably painful, and indeed this sight of a former
friend seemed to frighten her strangely.

After Dr. Perry had talked with her for a half-hour and examined her
sufficiently to make at least a reasonable guess as to her mental and
physical condition, he advised Ivory to break the news of her husband's
death to her.

"If you can get her to comprehend it," he said, "it is bound to be a
relief from this terrible suspense."

"Will there be any danger of making her worse? Mightn't the shock Cause
too violent emotion?" asked Ivory anxiously.

"I don't think she is any longer capable of violent emotion," the doctor
answered. "Her mind is certainly clearer than it was three years ago, but
her body is nearly burned away by the mental conflict. There is scarcely
any part of her but is weary; weary unto death, poor soul. One cannot
look at her patient, lovely face without longing to lift some part of
her burden. Make a trial, Ivory; it's a justifiable experiment and
I think it will succeed. I must not come any oftener myself than is
absolutely necessary; she seemed afraid of me."

The experiment did succeed. Lois Boynton listened breathlessly, with
parted lips, and with apparent comprehension, to the story Ivory told
her. Over and over again he told her gently the story of her husband's
death, trying to make it sink into her mind clearly, so that there
should be no consequent bewilderment She was calm and silent, though her
face showed that she was deeply moved. She broke down only when Ivory
showed her the locket.

"I gave it to my husband when you were born, my son!" she sobbed. "After
all, it seems no surprise to me that your father is dead. He said he
would come back when the Mayflowers bloomed, and when I saw the autumn
leaves I knew that six months must have gone and he would never stay
away from us for six months without writing. That is the reason I have
seldom watched for him these last weeks. I must have known that it wa