sensitive about it until long after his guest had gone.
After dinner, when the table was cleared away, and Fred’s sofa moved again to the fire, they both settled themselves on it for a quiet chat. The fire shone out on a pretty picture. Bess, in her dark red gown, sat leaning luxuriously against the dull blue cushions of the oak sofa, while Fred was close by her side, with his hand through her arm, his head on her shoulder, listening with a laughing face to his friend’s account of some college frolics. There was no light in the room but the steady glow from the grate, that plainly showed their faces, but for the moment kindly hid the sad, blank look in Fred’s once beautiful eyes, and only gave them a dreamy, thoughtful expression, as from time to time he turned his face up to Bess.
In the midst of their conversation, the bell rang, and the next moment Mary, privately instructed by Bess, without word of warning ushered Rob into the room. For a minute he stood, hesitating whether to speak to Fred or not, but Bess quickly came to the rescue.
“Why, Rob, here so soon? Come up to the
