cuses to
Mrs. Heth, and know for herself how disappointed he was?

He spoke in loverly vein, and Cally was able to answer soothingly. She
mentioned that she would probably withdraw from the dinner, too; so that
even mamma's table would not be upset at all. He would be much missed,
of course. The suggestion emerged, or perhaps it was merely in the air,
that Hugo was to come in, if he could, in the later evening.

Cally was at the telephone some three minutes. Turning away, she did not
go at once to rest, though now halfway to her room. If she was not going
to dinner, there was more time, of course. Or possibly her head had
taken a slight turn for the better. The girl leaned against the
banisters in the quiet upper hall, full of depression. And then she said
aloud, with a resolution that was perhaps not so sudden as it seemed:

"I'll go and see Hen Cooney!"

XXIX

One Hour, in which she apologizes twice for her Self, her
Life and Works; and once she is beautifully forgiven, and
once she never will be, this Side of the Last Trump.

The Cooneys' door was opened, after the delay usual with the poor, by
Henrietta herself, this moment returned from the bookstore. Hen wore her
hat, but not her coat, and it was to be observed that one hand held a
hot-water bottle, imperfectly concealed behind her back.

"Hurrah!--Cally!" cried she. "We were talking of you at dinner to-day,
wondering what had become of you. Come into the house, and don't mind a
bit if this bottle leaks all over you. Such troubles!"

"How is Chas to-day? I just heard that he hadn't been at work for a
week."

"Chas?... Chas is better--Cousin Martha's worse--father's just the
same--Looloo's dancing the floor with a toothache." Hen recited this in
the manner of a chant, and added, as she ushered her Washington Street
cousin into the little parlor: "But for that, we're all doing
nicely--thank you!"

"Gracious, Hen! I'd no idea you had such a hospital. Why, what's the
matter with Uncle John?"

"Oh, just his lumbago. He's complaining, but out and about--fighting
over the Seven Days around Richmond with an old comrade somewhere, I
doubt not.... Sit down, my dear," added Hen, who had been looking at
Cally just a little curiously, "and excuse me while I run upstairs. I
forgot to explain that this bottle is for mother, who's down with a
splitting headache. Back in a jiffy...."

Thus Miss Cooney, not knowing that for one moment, at