but her intent inward look
did not relax.

"At least that is an explanation," I agreed.

"It is the true explanation," said Hinman, confidently. "Can you
suggest any other, Miss Vaughan?"

"No," she said, slowly; "no," and walked once or twice up and down the
room. Then she seemed to put the subject away from her. "At any rate,
it is of no importance. I wish to speak to you about my father's
funeral, Dr. Hinman," she went on, in another tone. "It is to be
to-morrow?"

"Yes--at eleven o'clock. I have made such arrangements as I could
without consulting you. But there are some things you will have to
tell me."

"What are they?"

"Do you desire a minister?"

"No. He would not have wished it. If there is any priest, it will be
his own."

"You mean the yogi?"

"Yes."

"Are there any relatives to inform?"

"No."

"Where shall the body be buried?"

"It must not be buried. It must be given to the flames. That was his
wish."

"Very well. I will arrange for cremation. Will you wish to accompany it?"

"No, no!" she cried, with a gesture of repugnance.

"That is all, then, I believe," said Hinman slowly. "And now I must be
going. I beg you not to overtax yourself."

"I shall not," she promised, and he bowed and left us.

The afternoon was fading into evening, and the shadows were deepening
in the room. I glanced about me with a little feeling of apprehension.

"The nurses are still here, are they not?" I asked.

"Yes; but I shall dismiss them to-morrow."

I hesitated a moment. I did not wish to alarm her, and yet....

"After they are gone, it will be rather lonesome for you here," I
ventured.

"I am used to being lonesome."

"My partner's wife, Mrs. Royce, would be very glad if you would come
to her," I said. "I have a letter from her," and I gave it to her.

She stood considering it with a little pucker of perplexity between
her brows. She did not attempt to open it.

"She is very kind," she murmured, and her tone surprised and
disappointed me.

"May I see you to-morrow?"

"If you wish."

"I shall come some time during the afternoon," I said, and took up my
hat. "There is nothing else I can do for you?"

"No, I believe not."

She was plainly preoccupied and answered almost at random, with a
coldness in sharp contrast to the warmth of her previous manner.

"Then I will say good-bye."

"Good-bye, Mr. Lester; and thank you."

She went with me to the door, and stood for a moment looking