“You must come home with me now,” she observed after a while, “and I will give you tea.” And she got up, rather wearily.

Her drawing-room was just as he remembered it. The light gleamed in just the same way from the ivory wood-work and along the polished surfaces of the same exquisite vases. But the room seemed to Stacey like a deadened melody played on muted strings. It was a romantic room and it needed Marian—the old elfish Marian, slipping in and out lightly,—to vivify it. He looked around him dreamily.

Mrs. Latimer had sunk down on a divan and removed her hat slowly. Now she was leaning back and looking at Stacey, not so much curiously as wistfully.

“It’s very good to have you here, Stacey,” she said at last simply.

“Thank you,” he replied, warmed by her affection and feeling soothed by the delicate hushed beauty of the room, which had no connection with the outside world. The maid brought in the tea things.

But the water had been boiling in the silver urn for some little time before Mrs. Latimer finally made the tea. It seemed to demand a conscious effort for her to lift her hand to the urn.

“You’re tired,” said Stacey suddenly. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

She started, so that some of the water spilled over upon the tray; for just a moment she gave him an odd pained look; then she turned about quickly and laid her head against the back of the divan. Her shoulders shook with sobs, and there was fatigue without relaxation in every line of her taut body.

Stacey was shocked. He had always thought of Mrs. Latimer as strong, cool, and too wise to be shaken by any tempest. He had no idea of what to do or say. Instinctively he desired to stand near her and comfort her, but he feared that this would only make things worse. So he sat silent and gazed at her pityingly.

After a while she looked up. “Forgive me!” she began; then at sight of his expression her mouth trembled and she cried again. But presently she regained control of herself and wiped her eyes. Then Stacey saw that she was an old woman with a weary tragic face.