b--during her absence. I preferred to keep up the
fiction that her trip would only be temporary. She forbore from
contradicting me, devoting herself efficiently to the task of closing the
house, making it seem, somehow, a rite,--the final rite in her capacity
as housewife. The drawing-room was shrouded, and the library; the books
wrapped neatly in paper; a smell of camphor pervaded the place; the
cheerful schoolroom was dismantled; trunks and travelling bags appeared.
The solemn butler packed my clothes, and I arranged for a room at the
Club in the wing that recently had been added for the accommodation of
bachelors and deserted husbands. One of the ironies of those days was
that the children began to suggest again possibilities of happiness I had
missed--especially Matthew. With all his gentleness, the boy seemed to
have a precocious understanding of the verities, and the capacity for
suffering which as a child I had possessed. But he had more self-control.
Though he looked forward to the prospect of new scenes and experiences
with the anticipation natural to his temperament, I thought he betrayed
at moments a certain intuition as to what was going on.

"When are you coming over, father?" he asked once. "How soon will your
business let you?"

He had been brought up in the belief that my business was a tyrant.

"Oh, soon, Matthew,--sometime soon," I said.

I had a feeling that he understood me, not intellectually, but
emotionally. What a companion he might have been!.... Moreton and Biddy
moved me less. They were more robust, more normal, less introspective and
imaginative; Europe meant nothing to them, but they were frankly
delighted and excited at the prospect of going on the ocean, asking
dozens of questions about the great ship, impatient to embark.....

"I shan't need all that, Hugh," Maude said, when I handed her a letter of
credit. "I--I intend to live quite simply, and my chief expenses will be
the children's education. I am going to give them the best, of course."

"Of course," I replied. "But I want you to live over there as you have
been accustomed to live here. It's not exactly generosity on my part,--I
have enough, and more than enough."

She took the letter.

"Another thing--I'd rather you didn't go to New York with us, Hugh. I
know you are busy--"

"Of course I'm going," I started to protest.

"No," she went on, firmly. "I'd rather you didn't. The hotel people will
put me on the steamer very co