"Try to take a little tea," urged Mildred.
Mrs. Groates looked at her with blank eyes.
"Just a few sips!"
"Tea,—O yes; thank you, my dear."
But when the cup was raised to her lips, she turned from it. "I don't think I can just now. Seems as if I couldn't swallow. I'd rather wait."
Again she sat, lost in thought. Mildred's hand stole into hers, and was gently pressed.
"You're kind to stay with me. It's very good of you. I do feel strange,—it's come so sudden."
"It is terrible for you, poor thing!"
"It don't seem long since that day—when he asked me to marry him. All those years ago. I used to think he'd outlive me—such a strong man."
"No one can ever tell. The strongest are often taken first." Tears were running down Mildred's cheeks, and Mrs. Groates looked at her in a kind of wonder.