oking at her husband in such a state that Nathan was moved to say:

"Never mind, Sue, I'll take you over after dinner and you can see for
yourself."

Susan Hornby turned and started to the house. Nathan followed her aquiver
with the slight that his common sense told him had been put upon her by
those whom she had so faithfully and fully served.

Susan stumbled and put her hands to her head with a harsh laugh. Nathan
hurried forward a step and looked searchingly into her face. With a great
sob, he put his arms about her. Susan paid not the slightest attention to
him, but let herself be guided along the path without actual resistance.
Her face was flushed and her eyes did not see. She went docilely to her
room and permitted the stricken husband to place her on the bed, where he
loosened her collar and, removing her clothing, dressed her for bed as if
she had been a little child. When nothing more could be done, he knelt by
her and fondling her unresponsive hand let the tears he could no longer
control pour over his ashen cheeks.

"Don't you know me, Sue? Don't you know your old Nate at all?" he
quavered, but there was no reply except the puffing breath which was every
moment growing more and more laboured. Nathan knew what it meant--she had
been so once before.

As the Hunter family sat about the dinner table on Tuesday, Silas
Chamberlain drove up to the side gate, and after tying his team came to
the door. He entered when bidden, but would not sit down, and looked about
him with an effort to adjust his impressions with what he saw before him.

"Ain't you goin' t' th' funeral?" he asked when he saw that there seemed
to be no air of mourning in the house.

"Funeral?" John Hunter exclaimed. "Who's dead?"

"I told Nate Hornby you didn't know nothin' about it."

"Hornby? We haven't heard of any one being dead. Who is it?" John Hunter
asked, puzzled at the reticence of the old man, who stood with his straw
hat in his hand and slid his fingers about its greasy brim uneasily.

"Is--is it possible you all didn't know Mrs. Hornby was sick?" he asked,
unable to lift his eyes.

There was a low cry from Elizabeth Hunter, the noise of her escape to the
privacy of her own room, the sound of moans and cries after the door was
shut, and Silas Chamberlain paid bitter toll for delivering his message.
The family sat stunned and silent in the presence of those sounds of
grief. The bowed head of the old man told his comprehension o