but the house which was so friendly to him and so full
of Nancy, was far dearer to him than her own, for Henry's hostility was
too marked to make his visits there other than difficult.

So it was that he came unexpectedly upon Mrs. Norris, Mary, and Nancy
when he walked into the library on the day following the race; and then
he regretted his free and easy entrance. For Mary was in tears and was
receiving the comfort of her mother and friend. Tom backed hurriedly
out, muttering an inarticulate apology and cursing himself for an
awkward fool. Mary saw him, however, and with a sob brushed past him in
the hall and went upstairs. Her mother who swept after her like a large
and stately galleon in her black silk dress, was more troubled than he
had ever seen her. Still, as she passed, she told him not to mind. And
then he was alone with Nancy.

"What on earth is the matter?" he asked. Nancy, too, was thoroughly
upset.

"Just look at that," she said, and pointed to an article in a New York
evening paper. "Woodbridge Professor Drowns," ran the headlines.
"Overtaken by Cramps After Eating Cherries and Milk." It appeared that
Professor Furbush had defied the popular fear of the fatal combination
and, in order to make his defiance complete, had promptly gone in
swimming after eating it. The tragedy had occurred at the country house
of relatives; and though a number of people were present, they took his
cries for help as a joke until it was too late. The account went on to
explain that it was more sad even than it might at first appear, for it
was generally supposed that the dead man had been engaged to marry Miss
Mary Norris, daughter of the Acting President of Woodbridge.

"Why, isn't that dreadful," said Tom. It is always a little hard to know
what should be said in such circumstances. If the one who has just died
is close to us, we don't think about what to say at all, but if it is
only an acquaintance and we are merely a little thrilled by his going,
it is difficult; for decency requires a solemn look and a shocked word.
So Tom did what he could to be decent; and Nancy, who was staring with
half averted face out upon the garden, made no reply. She, of course,
knew all the secrets of Mary's heart and must be sharing her sorrow.
Accordingly, any words from him, other than sympathetic ones for Mary's
loss, would be untimely. Perhaps, even, she would insist upon remaining
in sisterly spinsterhood! "It's awfully tough, isn't it