from the
window, where she had evidently been watching. She met them at the
office door, with an odd, shocked, inquiring expression on her little
face. James kissed her furtively, while Gordon's back was turned, as he
divested himself of his gray coat.

"Dinner is nearly ready," Clemency said in an agitated voice.

"How is she?" asked Gordon, then before she had time to reply, he added
almost roughly, "What on earth are you fretting about?"

"I am not fretting," Clemency answered in a weak little voice.

"There is nothing in all this for you to concern yourself with. Put it
out of your head!"

"Yes, Uncle Tom."

"How is she?"

"She has been asleep all the afternoon."

"She has not had another attack?"

"No, Uncle Tom."

Then the dinner-bell rang.

To James's surprise, but everything surprised him now, Gordon seemed to
recover his spirits. He ate heartily. He laughed and joked. After dinner
he went upstairs to see Mrs. Ewing, and when he came down insisted that
James should accompany him to the hotel for a game of euchre. James
would have preferred remaining with Clemency, whose eyes were wistful,
but Gordon hurried him away. They remained until nearly midnight in the
parlor, where the funeral had taken place a short time before, playing
euchre, telling stories, and drinking apple-jack. James noticed that the
hotel man often cast an anxious and puzzled glance at Gordon. He began
to fancy that what seemed mirth and jollity was the mere bravado of
misery and a ghastly mask of real enjoyment. He was glad when Gordon
made the move to leave. Georgie K. stood in the door watching the two
men untie the horse and get into the buggy. "Take care of yourself,
Doc," he hallooed, and there was real affection and concern in his
voice.

Gordon drove now, and the mare, being on her homeward road, made good
time. James helped Gordon unharness, as Aaron had gone to bed. His deep
snores sounded through the stable from his room above. "It's a pity to
wake up anything," Gordon said. "Guess well put the mare up ourselves."
Now his voice was bitter again. Gordon had the key of the office door,
and after locking the stable the two men entered. Gordon threw some wood
on the fire. The lamp with its dangling prisms was burning. "Sit down a
minute," Gordon said, "'I have something to tell you. I may as well get
it off my mind now. It has got to come sometime."

James sat down and lit a cigar. He felt himself in a nervous tension.