misery in them that
her greeting suddenly seemed to jar upon her own ears, and come back
to her in bitter mockery. In a moment, however, understanding came.
Intuitively she felt that her sister's grief was her own, into which
she could never pry. She must ask no questions, she must offer no
sympathy. For the moment her sister's mantle had fallen upon her
shoulders. Hers had suddenly become the strength, and it was for her
to use it in Kate's support.

So the days wore on, long dreary days of many heartaches and bitter
speculation. Kate remained the dark, brooding figure she had displayed
herself on that first morning after her return. She was utterly
unapproachable in those first days, while yet at the greatest pains to
conceal the sorrow she was enduring. No questions or explanations
passed between the two women, and Helen was left without the faintest
suspicion of the truth.

Sometimes, Helen, in the long silent days, strove to solve the meaning
of everything for herself. She thought and thought till her poor head
ached. But she always began and ended with the same thought. It was
Charlie's capture, Charlie's death which had wrought this havoc in her
sister, and she felt that time alone could remove the shadow which had
settled itself so hopelessly upon her.

Then she began to wonder and worry at the prolonged absence of
her--Bill.

* * * * *

Kate had just finished removing the remains of the evening meal. Helen
had curled herself up in the old rocker. She was reading through the
numerous pages of a long letter, for perhaps the twentieth time. She
was tired, bodily and mentally, and her pretty face looked drawn under
its tanning.

Her sister watched her, moving silently about, returning the various
articles to the cupboards where they belonged. Her eyes were shadowed.
The old assurance seemed to have gone entirely out of her. Her whole
manner was inclined to a curious air of humility, which, even now,
seemed to fit her so ill.

She watched the girl turn page after page. Then she heard her draw a
long sigh as she turned the last page.

Helen looked up and caught the eyes so yearningly regarding her.

"I--I feel better now," she declared, with a pathetic little smile.
"And--please--please don't worry about me, Kate, dear. I'm tired.
We're both tired. Tired to death. But--there's no help for it. We
surely must keep going, and--and we've no one now to help us." She
glanced down