There was a sound of steps in the passage, and he sat up and listened. Then the door opened and Mrs. Graham came in. There was a bright look in her tearless eyes. Her lips were firmly closed, and he saw that her hands were clenched. He stood up as she entered, and looked at her as she came towards him. She came close to him and laid her hand on his. "Poor Mary," she said, softly, "we ... we must comfort poor Mary!" She looked about the room. "Where is she?" she asked, turning to him again. "Upstairs," he answered. She went towards the door. "I must go and comfort her," she said. "She was ... very fond of ... of Ninian!" He followed her to the door, afraid that she might break down, but she did not break down. She gathered her skirts about her, and went up the stairs to Mary's room, and her steps were firm and proud. He could hear the rustle of her skirt on the landing as she passed along it out of his sight, and then he heard her knocking on Mary's door. "Can I come in, Mary?" she asked in a clear voice. He could hear the door opening ... and then he heard it being closed again. He stood at the foot of the stairs, listening, but there was no need of him. He turned away, and as he did so, Widger came into the hall. The old man stood for a moment or two without speaking. Then he made a suppliant movement with his trembling hands. "It b'ain't true!..." he mumbled thickly. "Yes, Widger," Henry answered, "it is." The old man turned away. "I knowed 'un ever since 'e were a baby," he said, and his lips were quivering. "Praper li'l chap 'e were, too! "It b'ain't right," he went on, looking helplessly about him. Then his voice took a firmer, more definite note, "Where's missus to?" he asked. "She's upstairs, Widger," Henry answered. "I don't think I'd say anything to her at present, if I were you!" "Very well, sir!" He moved away. The vitality seemed to have gone out of him, and suddenly he had become old ... senile ... shuffling. "They'm wisht times, sir!" he said, as he left the hall. 4