Hygeia and no reply came. I had quite a bunch of
Jim's letters on hand also to demonstrate my powers as a letter-writer.
Writing, I concluded, was not fortunate for me. It would be better to
have Miss Tescheron regard me as an ungrateful wretch, a fit associate
of the scoundrel who had toyed with her affections.

Robinson Crusoe started his island home with about as many clothes as I
had when I left the hospital. It was fortunate that the city was such a
kind employer; that my pay went on while I was ill, and that my
connection with the Health Department secured the best hospital service
at a nominal charge. I ordered a new trunk and a new outfit of clothing
the day after my arrival, and when the clothes came I proceeded to try
them on, but there was no fun in it without Jim to guy me. I fought hard
to keep that fellow out of my mind, but he was with me day and night. I
could not get away from him and my sorrow. Was it his ghost hovering
near, longing to return to its earthly habitation, and propose a
housekeeping merger with me? My fried onions might have penetrated the
other world and recalled him with such longings, for there are worse
places than home at dinner-time.

Mrs. Dewey entered one day and found me with my feet on the window-trim
and the rest of me crouched in the most substantial rocker. I was
smoking and cogitating. It was so quiet and I was so far out of sight
that she did not know I was there until she started to dust the chair.
The smoke had not suggested my presence, for old Dewey was always doing
that--he had learned how when young, and so it was no trouble.

"Oh, excuse me, I didn't know you were in the room. You're always so
quiet," she said.

"Sorrow makes a man quiet."

"Sorrow? Yes, you're right; but what have you--"

"Yes, I have much," I answered. "I know your tragedy, but you can't
guess mine. You have my sympathy, and if I could help you I would; but
you can't help me."

"Some woman, Mr. Hopkins--I did not think you were married. You must
be--"

"No," said I, and I spoke slowly, with some choking. "I have been
wronged by a man, a friend in whom I had faith; with whom I lived for
ten years. We were closer than brothers. He deserted me in my hour of
need--but go on with your dusting; what matters it? I tell you so that
you may understand why I feel so badly. Heaviness grows upon me, so that
I doubt if I shall ever see the bright side of things again."

Mrs. Dewey wiped away the tea