k again,
Robert Toland, with not even a twitch of his kind old face, went smiling
away from earth in a dream of childhood, and Richie, with a finger on
the silent pulse, and Jim, with a hand on the silent heart, had said
together: "Gone!"

An hour later Jim, standing thoughtful at an upper window, looked down
to see Richie bring the runabout to the front door. Down the steps came
Barbara, bare headed, and Julia, in her wide black hat and flying veil.
The three talked for a few moments together, the light from the open
hall door falling on their faces; then Julia got into the car. She
leaned out to say some last word to Barbara, her face composed and
sweetly grave, then turned to Richie, and they were gone.

Jim would have found it difficult to analyze his own emotion. Something
in that look toward Barbara, so brave and quiet, so bright with some
inward serenity, stirred his heart. He went downstairs to meet Barbara
in the hall.

"Where's Rich?" asked Jim, in the hushed voice that had supplanted all
the usual noise and gayety of the house.

"He'll be right back," Barbara said apathetically. "He's driving Julie
to the boat."

For some reason Jim's heart sank. He had supposed them as performing
only some village errand, at the florist's, the drug store, or the post
office. A certain blank fell upon his spirits; Julia had her grievance,
of course, but she seemed singularly indifferent to the--well, the
appearances of things!

But Julia, alone on the boat, could have laughed in the joy of escape,
in the new sense of freedom on which she seemed to float. Above all her
sympathy for the family she so deeply loved, and above the sorrow of her
own very real personal loss, rose the intoxicating conviction that Jim's
sway over heart and soul was gone; he was no longer godlike; no longer
mysteriously powerful to hurt or to enchant her; he was just a handsome
man nearing forty, not particularly interesting, not noticeably
magnetic, not remarkable in any way.

She caught the welcoming Anna to her heart when she reached the Shotwell
Street house, telling her sad news to the others over the child's little
shoulder. But the kisses she gave her daughter were inspired by joy
instead of sorrow, and Julia lay down to sleep that night with a new
content, and slept as she had not slept for months. With a confidence
amounting almost to indifference she faced Jim on the day of the old
doctor's funeral, her beauty absolutely startling in