mfortably,--and there are other reasons why
I do not wish it." I did not insist.... On the afternoon of her
departure, when I came uptown, I found her pinning some roses on her
jacket.

"Perry and Lucia sent them," she informed me. She maintained the
friendly, impersonal manner to the very end; but my soul, as we drove to
the train, was full of un-probed wounds. I had had roses put in her
compartments in the car; Tom and Susan Peters were there with more roses,
and little presents for the children. Their cheerfulness seemed forced,
and I wondered whether they suspected that Maude's absence would be
prolonged.

"Write us often, and tell us all about it, dear," said Susan, as she sat
beside Maude and held her hand; Tom had Biddy on his knee. Maude was
pale, but smiling and composed.

"I hope to get a little villa in France, near the sea," she said. "I'll
send you a photograph of it, Susan."

"And Chickabiddy, when she comes back, will be rattling off French like a
native," exclaimed Tom, giving her a hug.

"I hate French," said Biddy, and she looked at him solemnly. "I wish you
were coming along, Uncle Tom."

Bells resounded through the great station. The porter warned us off. I
kissed the children one by one, scarcely realizing what I was doing. I
kissed Maude. She received my embrace passively.

"Good-bye, Hugh," she said.

I alighted, and stood on the platform as the train pulled out. The
children crowded to the windows, but Maude did not appear.... I found
myself walking with Tom and Susan past hurrying travellers and porters to
the Decatur Street entrance, where my automobile stood waiting.

"I'll take you home, Susan," I said.

"We're ever so much obliged, Hugh," she answered, "but the street-cars go
almost to ferry's door. We're dining there."

Her eyes were filled with tears, and she seemed taller, more ungainly
than ever--older. A sudden impression of her greatness of heart was borne
home to me, and I grasped the value of such rugged friendship as hers--as
Tom's.

"We shouldn't know how to behave in an automobile," he said, as though to
soften her refusal. And I stood watching their receding figures as they
walked out into the street and hailed the huge electric car that came to
a stop beyond them. Above its windows was painted "The Ashuela Traction
Company," a label reminiscent of my professional activities. Then I heard
the chauffeur ask:--"Where do you wish to go, sir?"

"To the Club," I said.