’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. My dear—I can call you that here, anyhow—I know that. "When did you see him, my love?" "A short time ago," replied the housekeeper, unsuspiciously. “In the event of his death we should require you at once to attend at the inquest. He perceived, however, that both the novels he read and the world he lived in discountenanced these assumptions. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his.
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