Mrs. Lister lay face downward, her cheek pressed deep into the pillow. Her hands were clenched above her head and the bed shook with the violence of her weeping. She had now passed the limit of endurance. Thomasina went close to the ample bed with its quivering figure. "Mary Alcestis, I am here and I will stay with you. If it does you good to cry, I'll stand guard, so cry away." Thomasina bowed one shutter a little more closely and closed the door and then sat down in the chair which Dr. Green had left. There could be nothing the matter with Richard, or Dr. Green would have told her. Mrs. Lister did not, as Thomasina suggested, have her cry out. She tried at once to control herself, and succeeded bravely with her tears. But the hysterical impulse was not spent. It would have been better if she had continued to weep, but instead she began to talk, and having begun, could not stop. She told Thomasina the whole story of Basil from the day of his birth as though Thomasina had never seen or heard of him. "We did everything we could for him, father and I--everything. I felt I must make up mother's loss to him. We--" "_Everything except understand him_," said Thomasina to herself. "We prayed--that is father did--with him, and talked with him, and labored with him, and watched for him." "_But did not sympathize with him_," said Thomasina, again to herself. "But when it came to Margie Ginter, oh, Thomasina! it was too hard with father the president of the college and so admir--" "To Margie Ginter!" repeated Thomasina. "Oh, hush, Thomasina! Do not speak so loud! I have never talked about it with you, because it was my own brother, and I wanted you to think as well as you could of him, and because we have never talked about such things. But you must know, Thomasina!" "I know nothing!" "I mean you will have to know, because it is creeping out." "Creeping out!" Thomasina's voice was horror-struck. "What is creeping out?" "He began to go with Margie Ginter here. He walked with her in the evenings and he used to go often to the tavern. You know how we used to run past the tavern, Thomasina!" "This is madness, Mary Alcestis!" "It is not. I saw them and heard them. I was coming home from your house and I heard them. She was pleading with Basil to help her and he said it would be best to go away. She was crying, and I followed them down Cherry Street. I felt I must know so as to tell my father. It was very dark and a storm was coming, but I followed them nevertheless." "Followed them?"