"Ruth," he said gravely. "May I send Mrs. Trupp to you?"
Ruth sobbed and nodded.
Very slowly Mr. Trupp climbed the stairs to his wife's room.
It was some time before Mrs. Trupp joined the girl.
The room was dark, save for one shaded lamp.
The lady came in quietly, dressed for the evening in a damson-coloured tea-gown that showed off her gracious beauty and silver hair. Her face was wan and wistful, her bearing noble and full of tender dignity.
The black figure on the chair did not move.
The elder woman took her seat beside the younger and laid her hand upon the girl's.
"Ruth," she said at last, in a still voice with a quiver running through it. "I know more than you think. You loved him, didn't you?"
The broken girl nodded; then shook her head.