Jennette Lee

“ My husband shut himself alone—in his room. All day I did not see him. Stephen had gone with Marian into town to see her off, and I was alone." She shuddered a little. "I had never been alone in my life. I do not mean physically alone, you understand—but in my heart. There had always been my mother—and then Oswald. But that day there was no one in the world. I thought my heart would break!" She looked at Milly and there was a strange passion in her eyes, as if the memory of the day haunted them.
"I know they say hearts do not break," she said. ”

“ The woman gasped a little. She was leaning back in her chair, her face very pale. The tears were stealing down. Presently her lips moved and Milly bent to catch the half-breathed words:
"I have been punished," she said softly. "I have paid for my jewels—yes!" She brushed aside the tears and sat up. . . . "Even then I knew!" She was speaking almost fiercely. "I knew! I longed—for other children—to hear them running and playing with Stephen, in the hall out here and in the garden!" . . . She seemed to listen a moment to the voices that had not come to her. ”

“ We were always together and always such friends. Even when he was a child we talked over our plans with him. We called him 'little brother.' There was no other child, you know." A shadow flitted in her face and she went on quickly. "Then we adopted Marian, and we were four children, instead of three. I think we kept younger than most fathers and mothers. . . . I was not old two years ago." She leaned against the mantel and her shoulders seemed to droop a little, as if she were suddenly tired.
"Sit down," said Milly, motioning to the chair across the hearth. ”