She listened an instant and then glided up the stairs as silently as she had come down, a nervous satisfaction in her face.

She appeared in the doorway an instant too late to hear the last kindly word from her father-in-law. The doctor had raised his head from bending over to watch, and Marion was turning away with her hands to her throat and a look of exalted sorrow on her face. Marion was so strange! Why didn’t she cry? Jennie began to cry. It was hardly decent not to cry, Jennie thought. And Marion pretended to think so much of her father! Probably, though, she was worn out and really glad it was over. It was perfectly natural for a girl not to enjoy taking care of an old, sick man for so long. Two years! It had been two years since Father took sick! Well it was over, thank goodness, at last! Jennie buried her face in her handkerchief and sobbed gently.

Marion wished again that Jennie would keep still. Their last minutes, and the precious spirit just taken its flight! It seemed a desecration!

The doctor and Tom were talking in low tones in the hall now, and Marion turned back for one last, precious look. But even that look had to be interrupted by Jennie, who came with an air of doing her duty and stood at the other side of the bed.

“Poor old soul! He’s at rest at last!” she said with a sniff and a dab at her eyes with her handkerchief. “And you, Marion, you haven’t any call to blame yourself for anything. You certainly have been faithful!” This by way of offering sympathy.

It was piously said, but somehow the unusual praise from her sister-in-law grated on her just now. It was as if she were putting it in to exonerate herself as well.

Oh, please, please keep still! shouted Marion’s soul silently. But Marion’s lips answered nothing. She still wore that exalted look. After all, what did anything like this matter now? Let Jennie voice her meaningless chatter. She need not pay attention. She was trying to follow the flight of the dear spirit who had gone from her. She had not yet faced the life without him that was to be hers now that he was gone. She still had the feeling upon her that for his sake she must be brave and quiet. She must not desecrate the place by even a tear.

All through the trying days that followed until the worn-out body was laid to rest beside the partner of his youth in the peaceful cemetery outside the city, Marion had to endure the constant attentions of her sister-in-law. Jennie was always bringing her a cup of tea and begging her to lie down. Jennie wanted to know if she would like her to come into her room and sleep lest she would be lonely. Jennie disciplined the children for making a noise and told them their Aunt Marion didn’t feel well. Jennie became passionate in her vigilance until after the funeral was over. Marion was glad beyond words to be allowed at last to go to her own room alone and lock the door. To be alone with her sorrow seemed the greatest luxury that could now be given her.

And while she knelt beside her bed in the room that had been hers during her father’s illness—because it was next to his and she could leave the door open and listen for his call in the night—her brother, Tom, was down in the den going over his father’s papers.

Tom was a big, pleasant-faced man with an easy-going nature. He would not for the world hurt anybody, much less his own sister. He intended with all his heart to take care of her all her life if that was her need and her desire. He had not a thought otherwise. Yet when he began the search among those papers of his father it could not be denied that he hoped matters were so left that he would have full charge of the property without any complications.