d against his
father."

"You are right, Marah," said Herbert, "for if he were told, the natural
indignation that your wrongs would arouse in his heart would totally
unfit him to meet his father in a proper spirit in that event for which
I still hope--a future and a perfect family union!"

* * * * *

Herbert Greyson remained a week with his friends, during which time he
paid the quarter's rent, and relieved his adopted mother of that cause
of anxiety. Then he took leave and departed for Hurricane Hall, on his
way to Washington City, where he was immediately going to pass his
examination and await his appointment.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE WASTING HEART.

Then she took up the burden of life again
Saying only, "It might have been."
Alas for them both, alas for us all,
Who vainly the dreams of youth recall;
For of all sad words of lips, or pen,
The saddest are these--"It might have been."
--Whittier.

By the tacit consent of all parties, the meteor hope that had crossed
and vanished from Marah Rocke's path of life was never mentioned again.
Mother and son went about their separate tasks. Traverse worked at jobs
all day, studied at night and went twice a week to recite his lessons to
his patron, Doctor Day, at Willow Hill. Marah sewed as usual all day,
and prepared her boy's meals at the proper times. But day by day her
cheeks grew paler, her form thinner, her step fainter. Her son saw this
decline with great alarm. Sometimes he found her in a deep, troubled
reverie, from which she would awaken with heavy sighs. Sometimes he
surprised her in tears. At such times he did not trouble her with
questions that he instinctively felt she could not or would not answer;
but he came gently to her side, put his arms about her neck, stooped and
laid her face against his breast and whispered assurances of "his true
love" and his boyish hopes of "getting on," of "making a fortune" and
bringing "brighter days" for her.

And she would return his caresses, and with a faint smile reply that he
"must not mind" her, that she was only "a little low-spirited," that she
would "get over it soon."

But as day followed day, she grew visibly thinner and weaker; dark
shadows settled under her hollow eyes and in her sunken cheeks. One
evening, while standing at the table washing up their little tea
service, she suddenly dropped into her chair and