Mrs. Carrington looked up quickly.
"Oh, did you? I didn't know that people knew it. Who told you?"
"The circulatin' family story-paper," laughed Drusilla, "Miss Lee."
Mrs. Carrington frowned for a moment; then she laughed.
"Oh, well, if Sarah knows it, it is no secret in Brookvale. But I am not going away, so her story will have to be revised. What else did she say, Miss Doane?"
"Well—I jest can't remember all she said—but—you said jest now you was happy. Miss Lee'll lose all interest in you now. There's nothin' so uninteresting to old maids as their married friends when they're happy."
"I might just as well tell you myself, and it's all past now and I can talk without breaking my heart. Did Sarah tell you that we lost our little boy about a year ago?"
"Yes; she told me, and I'm sorry for you. It must be a sad thing to lose a baby."
"It nearly killed me, and—and—I began to think about myself too much—I can see that now. I began to feel that Robert did not understand me, that he did not miss our boy nor care as much as I did—that he was hard and occupied himself too much with business and neglected me—and—and—"
"I understand," said Drusilla. "You didn't know that to a man work is the whole dinner, and love the pie that he has to finish it off and make the dinner perfect for him. Perhaps you didn't understand him no more than he did you?"