"The child!" William King said; "be careful." He went and lifted David
to his feet. "Go up-stairs, my boy." He did not look at Mrs. Richie,
who bent down and kissed David, mechanically, "I dreamed," the little boy mumbled, "'at my rabbits had earrings;
an'--"
"Go, dear," she said; and David, drowsily obedient, murmured good-
night. A minute later they heard him climbing up-stairs.
Helena turned dumb eyes towards the silent figure on the hearth-rug,
but he would not look at her. Under his breath he said one incredulous
and tragic word: "You?"
Then he looked at her.
And at his look she hid her face in her bent arm. That new sensation,
that cleansing fire of shame, swept over her again with its
intolerable scorch.
"No! No! I am going to be married; I--"
The front door closed behind him. Helena, alone, crouched, sobbing, on
the floor.
But the Lord was not in the fire.