When David Richie opened the library door and came into the hall he was outwardly far steadier than they. "I think I'll go to the depot now, sir. No, thank you, Miss White; I'll get something to eat there." "Oh, but my dear boy," she said, trying to swallow her tears, "now do--now don't--I can have your breakfast ready immejetly, and--" "Let him alone," Mr. Ferguson said; "he'll eat when he feels like it. David, must you go back this morning? I wish you'd stay." "I have to go back, thank you, sir." "You may find a letter from her at home; she didn't know you were to be here to-day." "I may," David said; and some dull note in his voice told Robert Ferguson that the young man's youth was over. "My boy," he said, "forget her! You are well rid of--" he stopped short, with an apprehensive glance; but David made no protest; apparently he was not listening. "I shall take the express," he said; "I must see my mother, before I go to the hospital to-night. She must be told. She will be--sorry." "Your mother!" said Robert Ferguson. "Well, David, thank God you have loved one woman who is good!" "I have loved _two_ women who are good," David said. He turned and took Miss White's poor old, shaking hands in his. "When she comes back--" "Comes back?" the older man cried out, furiously; "she shall never come back to this house!" David did not notice him: "Miss White, listen. When you see her, tell her I understand. Just tell her, 'David says, "I understand."' And Miss White, say: 'He says, try to forgive him.'" She sobbed so, that instinctively, but without tenderness, he put his arm about her; his face was dull to the point of indifference. "Don't cry, Miss White. And be good to her; but I know you will be good to her!" He picked up his hat, put his coat over his arm, and stretched out his hand to Robert Ferguson with a steady smile. "Good-by, sir." Then the smile dropped and left the amazed and naked face quivering before their eyes. Through the wave of merciful numbness which had given him his hard composure, agony stabbed him. "For God's sake, don't be hard on her. She has enough to bear! And blame me--_me_. I did it--" He turned and fled out of the house, and the two unhappy people who loved Elizabeth looked at each other speechlessly. CHAPTER XXI