efore, but, until now, I had not thought of
it as an objection. There were a good many other things that might be
very effective to a man, especially to one with half-healed sorrows. I
acknowledged to myself that I had been mistaken in her, and I did not
doubt she had deceived a good many other people in that neighborhood.

"When I rose to leave, she stood for a moment, looking at me as though
she expected me to say something on the subject which was certainly
interesting to her as well as to me. But now I did not want to talk, and
I gave her no chance to say anything. I walked rapidly home, feeling as
jealous of Margaret Temple as any woman could feel of another.

"I was glad that day that Bernard liked to go fishing, for my mind was
in such a condition that I did not think of anything that might happen
to him--at least, anything but just one thing, and that was awful. Emily
Cheston supposed I had a headache, and I let her think so, for it gave
me more time to myself. I looked at the thing that threatened to crush
all my happiness, on every possible side. Early in the morning a ray of
relief had come to my troubled mind, and this was that I did not believe
he would have her, anyway. But I had seen her since, and no such ray
comforted me now.

"I knew, as I had not known before, what a power she might have over a
man. Widowers, I thought, are generally ready enough to marry again;
but, no matter what they think about it, they mostly wait a good while,
for the sake of appearances. But this would be different. When a man
knows that his wife had selected some one as her successor--and he would
be sure to know this, the woman would see to that--he would not feel it
necessary to wait. He would be carrying out his dead wife's wishes, and
of course in this there should be no delay. Oh, horrible! When I thought
of myself as Bernard's dead wife, and that woman living, I actually
kicked the stool my feet were resting on. I vowed in my mind the thing
should never be. I felt better after I had made this vow, although I had
not thought of any way by which I could carry it out. Certainly I was
not going to say anything to Bernard about it, one way or another."

Here the Next Neighbor paused again. And at that moment the red thrush
gave a little low trill, as much as to say: "Listen to me now." Then he
twittered and chirped in a tentative way as if he had not made up his
mind about singing, and the party on the terrace felt like cla