-room,
the piano with her music upon the rack--the hundred and one little
reminders that were like so many poisoned needles to aggravate my
suffering and to remind me of the torture of the days to come. She had
bade me forget her. Forget! I might forget when I was dead, but not
before. If I could only die then and there it would seem so easy by
comparison.

The next forenoon Hephzy and I had our talk. We discussed our future.
Should we leave the rectory and England and go back to Bayport where
we belonged? I was in favor of this, but Hephzy seemed reluctant. She,
apparently, had some reason which made her wish to remain for a time, at
least. At last the reason was disclosed.

"I supposed you'll laugh at me when I say it, Hosy," she said; "or at
any rate you'll think I'm awful silly. But I know--I just KNOW that
this isn't the end. We shall see her again, you and I. She'll come to us
again or we'll go to her. I know it; somethin' inside me tells me so."

I shook my head.

"It's true," she went on. "You don't believe it, but it's true. It's a
presentiment and you haven't believed in my presentiments before, but
they've come true. Why, you didn't believe we'd ever find Little Frank
at all, but we did. And do you suppose all that has happened so far has
been just for nothin'? Indeed and indeed it hasn't. No, this isn't the
end; it's only the beginnin'."

Her conviction was so strong that I hadn't the heart to contradict her.
I said nothing.

"And that's why," she went on, "I don't like to have us leave here right
away. She knows we're here, here in England, and if--if she ever should
be in trouble and need our help she could find us here waitin' to give
it. If we was away off on the Cape, way on the other side of the ocean,
she couldn't reach us, or not until 'twas too late anyhow. That's why
I'd like to stay here a while longer, Hosy. But," she hastened to add,
"I wouldn't stay a minute if you really wanted to go."

I was silent for a moment. The temptation was to go, to get as far from
the scene of my trouble as I could; but, after all, what did it matter?
I could never flee from that trouble.

"All right, Hephzy," I said. "I'll stay, if it pleases you."

"Thank you, Hosy. It may be foolish, our stayin', but I don't believe
it is. And--and there's somethin' else. I don't know whether I ought to
tell you or not. I don't know whether it will make you feel better or
worse. But I've heard you say that she must hat