"Where?" he echoed, "I don't know—anywhere. The midday train goes west."
"And what will you do in the new place?" she asked through her tears.
He shook his head as if the question hardly concerned him.
"I shall begin again," he answered indifferently at last.
She was turning hopelessly from him, when her eyes fell upon a slip of yellow paper which Beverly had placed under a vase on the mantel, and drawing it out, she glanced at the address before giving it into Ordway's hands.
"This must have come for you in the afternoon," she said, "I did not see it."
Taking the telegram from her, he opened it slowly, and read the words twice over.
"Your father died last night. Will you come home?
"Richard Ordway."