“Oh, Jack dear! If I’d only known, or guessed—”
“Then you wouldn’t have needed to believe a little,” answered John. “What did your father do with the letter?”
“He had it in his pocket all day, and brought it home with him in the evening. You see—I’d been out—at the Crowdies’—and then I came home and shut myself up. I was so miserable—and then I fell asleep.”
“You were so miserable that you fell asleep,” repeated Ralston, cruelly. “I see.”
“Jack! Please—please listen to me—”
“Yes. I beg your pardon, Katharine. I’m out of temper. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“No, dear. Please don’t. I can’t bear it.” Her lip quivered. “Jack,” she began again, after a moment, “please don’t say anything till I’ve told you all I have to say. If you do—no—I can’t help it—I’m crying now.”
Her eyes were full of tears, and she turned her face away quickly to recover her self-control. John was pained, but just then he could find nothing to say. He bent his head and looked at his hand, affecting not to see how much moved she was.
A moment later she turned to him, and the tears seemed to be gone again, though they were, perhaps, not far away. Strong women can make such efforts in great need.