"What is your authority for your statement?" she asked.
The doctor arose and came over to Mrs. Thorpe's side.
"Mrs. Thorpe," he said, "can it be--can it be possible that she did not know?"
"She did not know, Dr. Eldrige; she has told me that she did not know."
"She has told you--Geraldine has told you?"
"Geraldine has told me that she did not know the man's character; that she never dreamed of the thing that you and I know. Mrs. Mayhew has told me that at one time she tried to enlighten the girl, but she confesses that she did not handle the subject fearlessly as she should. I, myself, told Geraldine the truth as I know it; but it was not until after Max had gone."
The doctor resumed his seat; he rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and covered his face with his hand.
Mrs. Thorpe arose and left the fireside and went over to the window; her eyes wandered far across the frost-covered Flat, but her heart was with the man sitting in silence before her fire--her whole heart was with him--his happiness--his future--his life. Had she made possible for him that condition of life which she knew to be so perfect, so near to Heaven?--knew because it had once been hers. Then she felt his presence near her and turned and faced him. He took her hands in his.
"You are the best friend I have ever known," he said; "a better friend than I deserve. Your loving kindness has made you dear to me--dear as friend can be to friend."
She looked into his face, strong, steadfast beneath the flush of happiness that illumined it.