he spent the night with a friend," he said.

It seemed incredible, at such a moment, that he could still be hopeful.

"No, she's gone, I tell you, she's lost, we'll never lay eyes on her
again. My God, I never thought she'd come to this, but I might have
guessed it. Lise! Lise! To think it's my Lise!"

Hannah's voice echoed pitifully through the silence of the flat. So
appealing, so heartbroken was the cry one might have thought that Lise,
wherever she was, would have heard it. Edward was dazed by the shock,
his lower lip quivered and fell. He walked over to Hannah's chair and
put his hand on her shoulder.

"There, there, mother," he pleaded. "If she's gone, we'll find her,
we'll bring her back to you."

Hannah shook her head. She pushed back her chair abruptly and going over
to the stove took the fork from Janet's hand and put the steak on the
dish.

"Go in there and set down, Edward," she said. "I guess we've got to have
breakfast just the same, whether she's gone or not."

It was terrible to see Hannah, with that look on her face, going about
her tasks automatically. And Edward, too, seemed suddenly to have become
aged and broken; his trust in the world, so amazingly preserved through
many vicissitudes, shattered at last. He spilled his coffee when he
tried to drink, and presently he got up and wandered about the room,
searching for his overcoat. It was Janet who found it and helped him on
with it. He tried to say something, but failing, departed heavily for
the mill. Janet began to remove the dishes from the table.

"You've got to eat something, too, before you go to work," said Hannah.

"I've had all I want," Janet replied.

Hannah followed her into the kitchen. The scarcely touched food was laid
aside, the coffee-pot emptied, Hannah put the cups in the basin in the
sink and let the water run. She turned to Janet and seized her hands
convulsively.

"Let me do this, mother," said Janet. She knew her mother was thinking
of the newly-found joy that Lise's disgrace had marred, but she released
her hands, gently, and took the mop from the nail on which it hung.

"You sit down, mother," she said.

Hannah would not. They finished the dishes together in silence while the
light of the new day stole in through the windows. Janet went into her
room, set it in order, made up the bed, put on her coat and hat and
rubbers. Then she returned to Hannah, who seized her.

"It ain't going to spoil your happiness?"

B