"Good Lord, man! Haven't you seen it? Helen and the two suitors."
John grunted. "Oh—that!" He had not yet learnt to speak of the affair with any patience.
Mildred Caniper had left the house and all it held to Helen.
"I suppose you'll try to let it," Rupert said. "I don't like to think of that, though. Helen, I wish she hadn't died. Do you think we were more unpleasant than we need have been?"
"Not much. She was unpleasanter than we were, really, but then—"
"Heavens, yes. What a life!"
Her lips framed the words in echo, but she did not utter them, though she alone had the right.
"So perhaps I am not sorry she is dead," Rupert said.
Helen's lips tilted in a smile. "I don't think you need ever be sorry that any one is dead," she said, and before she could hear what her words told him, he spoke quickly.