to her work. She had a sense of
excited waiting for something beautiful to happen, and a warm and kindly
yearning to make every one else as happy as herself. She went often to
Hope House and sparred with Emma Ellis; neither of them had heard from
the Irishman, and while Jane was secretly able to interpret this with
comfort to herself, the other was not. Miss Ellis leaned romantically
toward the theory of the younger music student; Mr. Daragh had probably
gone home to inherit property and assume responsibilities; she had always
known there was nothing ordinary about Mr. Daragh; she had always felt
that he was a great person, stooping to this life of abnegation.

"But I think," said Jane flippantly, "he's much more likely to have been
a Sin-eater!"

"A--_what_?"

"A Sin-eater. I'm sure they're still being worn in Ireland. A Sin-eater
is a man who has had a great sorrow or committed a great crime----"

"Miss _Vail_!"

"--and lives in a damp and dismal cave across a slimy moor and whenever
any one dies unshriven, he is sent for, and he comes after dark, his face
shrouded, and prays and moans all night beside the corpse, eating all he
possibly can of the food which has been placed about it, and what he
can't consume on the spot he takes away before dawn, in a sack, and that
is his larder, you see, until the next sudden death! And, of course, the
idea is that he has taken the sins of the departed upon his own soul, and
that when he has done it long enough and meekly enough he will be
permitted to die, himself, and other people's sins will have miraculously
cleansed him of his own!"

"I never heard anything so--so revolting," said the Superintendent in her
most smothered voice.

"Oh, do you find it so? To me it seems very quaint and charming." She was
ashamed of her small-boy impishness but for sheer high spirits she could
not seem to stop. "But perhaps," she allowed it grudgingly, "he didn't
commit a crime; perhaps he was merely crossed in love, or--likeliest of
all--assumed the burden of another's misdeed! A wild young brother, or
The Heir! That's it,--The Heir! And Michael, with proper younger-son
humility, realized that he didn't count, and took the blame and fled to
the States, and now The Heir has died, first doing the decent thing in
the way of death-bed remorse and confession. And, of course, there's a
girl in it somewhere, and I'm sure she has waited for Michael all these
years instead of marrying The Heir, ar