The day was early in the spring, and the hour was late in the afternoon. David, just in from some call, had thrown his coat on the hall rack, and entered the study. He was tired, and dropped into his big easy-chair half inclined to steal a wink or two before supper. In the sitting room 'Thusia and Mary Derling, Alice and Rose Hinch, were sewing and talking. “I'll tell you one thing,” he heard Alice say; “I'm not going to spoil my beautiful blue eyes sewing in this light.” He heard a match scrape, and a strip of yellow light appeared on his worn carpet. Against it Alice's profile, oddly distorted, showed in silhouette. Mary's voice, asking if Alice saw her scissors, and Alice's reply, came faintly. He closed his eyes. The jangling of the doorbell awakened him. “Never mind, I'll use Rose's,” he heard Mary say, so brief had been his drowsing, and Alice went to the door. “Yes, Mrs. Derling is here,” he heard Alice say in reply to a question he could not catch. “Will you come in!” Evidently not. Alice went into the sitting room. “Someone to see you, Aunt Mary,” she said, for so she called Mary. “He won't come in.”, Mary went to the door. David heard her querying “Yes!” and the mumbling voice of the man at the door and Mary's rapid questions and the answers she received. He reached the door in time to put an arm around her as she crumpled down. She had grown stout in the latter years and her weight was too much for him. He lowered her to the lowest hall step and called: “Rose!” Rose Hinch came, trailing a length of some white material. She cast it aside, and dropped to her knees beside Mary. “What is it!” she asked, looking up at David. “I think she fainted,” he said. “Ben is dead--is drowned.” “Ah!” cried Rose in horror and sympathy and put her hand on Mary's heart. “And Roger,” said David. “Roger, too!” XXIII. SCANDAL THE bodies were recovered, had been recovered before George Tunnison started on the long trip back to Riverbank. It seemed that Ben could not swim, and when the skiff turned over he grasped Roger, and they both went down. The river was covered with floating ice. Tunnison, according to his own account, did what he could, but if the two came up it must have been to find the floating ice between them and the air. They were beyond resuscitation when they were found. Of Mary the doctor's verdict was fatty degeneration of the heart; any shock would have killed her.