. Then there was a light step on the porch,
followed by a low rap on the door. Lizzie crept down the stairs, not
knowing whether she should open the door or not. There was another rap,
a timid one, it seemed to Lizzie, who now stood hesitating in the hall
close to the door. There was a brief silence, then a low, awed voice was
heard calling:

"Mrs. Trott! Oh, Mrs. Trott! May I see you for a moment?"

Lizzie fired up with a touch of her old irascibility, and, putting her
lips to the keyhole, she cried out, sharply:

"There is no one at home! Can't you read the card on the door?"

"Yes, Mrs. Trott," came back after a pause, "but I've come a long way to
see you. Don't you know me? I'm Tilly, John's wife."

"John's wife!" Lizzie gasped under her breath. "John's wife!" Then with
fumbling fingers she unlocked and opened the door and stood staring at
the quaint little visitor whose black costume was covered with the dust
of travel and who seemed quite frightened under the ordeal upon her.

"Oh, Mrs. Trott," Tilly went on, in a pleading tone, "do forgive me! I
know I have no right to intrude on you like this, but I simply couldn't
stay away any longer. Oh, Mrs. Trott, you are alone and in trouble and I
want to help you!"

"Want to help me--you want to help me?" Lizzie stammered, taking Tilly's
outstretched hand and leading her into the parlor. "Of course, of course
you are welcome, but you mustn't stand there. Some one passing might see
you. You say--you say that you want to see me?"

"Yes, you are his mother-- I'm his wife, and we have lost him. Oh, Mrs.
Trott, what are we to do--how can we bear it?"

Tilly's voice quivered and hung in her throat and broke into sobs. The
woman within the woman of the world took the weeping child to her breast
and held her there. She, too, was weeping now and afraid to trust her
abashed voice to utterance. Locked in a mutual embrace, they stood for
several minutes. Then Lizzie, the weaker vessel of the two, found her
voice.

"Why did you come _here_?" she cried. "Oh, why did you come _here_?"

"I had to see you," Tilly made husky reply. "I know how you feel because
I know how I feel. Oh, Mrs. Trott, you are his mother--actually his
mother. I see the look of him in your face, in your eyes, in your hair
and hands, and hear his voice in yours. Do you know that I killed him?
If I had not left him as I did he would have been alive to-day. I was a
coward--but, oh, it was for John, for Joh