the same thing."

"Hephzy," I said, "when did she tell you this? I didn't know of it."

"I know you didn't, Hosy. She told me one day when we were alone. It was
the only time she ever spoke of herself and she didn't say much then.
She spoke about her livin' with her relatives here in England and what
awful, mean, hard people they were. She didn't say who they were nor
where they lived, but she did say she ran away from them to go on
the stage as a singer and what trials and troubles she went through
afterward. She told me that much and then she seemed sorry that she had.
She made me promise not to tell anyone, not even you. I haven't, until
now."

Doctor Bayliss was sitting with a hand to his forehead.

"A provincial opera singer," he repeated. "Oh, impossible! Quite
impossible!"

"It may seem impossible to you," I couldn't help observing, "but I
question if it will seem so to your son. I doubt if her being an opera
singer will make much difference to him."

The doctor groaned. "The boy is mad about her, quite mad," he admitted.

I was sorry for him. Perhaps if I were in his position I might feel as
he did.

"I will say this," I said: "In no way, so far as I know, has Miss Morley
given your son encouragement. He told me himself that he had never
spoken to her of his feelings and we have no reason to think that she
regards him as anything more than a friend. She left no message for him
when she went away."

He seemed to find some ground for hope in this. He rose from the chair
and extended his hand.

"Knowles," he said, "if I have said anything to hurt your feelings or
those of Miss Cahoon I am very sorry. I trust it will make no difference
in our friendship. My wife and I respect and like you both and I think I
understand how deeply you must feel the loss of your--of Miss Morley. I
hope she--I hope you may be reunited some day. No doubt you will be. As
for Herbert--he is our son and if you ever have a son of your own, Mr.
Knowles, you may appreciate his mother's feelings and mine. We have
planned and--and--Even now I should not stand in the way of his
happiness if--if I believed happiness could come of it. But such
marriages are never happy. And," with a sudden burst of hope, "as you
say, she may not be aware of his attachment. The boy is young. He may
forget."

"Yes," said I, with a sigh. "He IS young, and he may forget."

After he had gone Hephzy turned to me.

"If I hadn't understood that old man's