When she had done her work in the morning, Ellen slipped into the room which had been Jay's. No one noticed, she thought; but her mother had and, when Ellen remained, her mother entered and found her seated by a window (which had become "his window").
Ellen looked about. "I've made his bed, mother," she said.
"You wanted to, yourself."
"Yes. . . . Since, I've stayed to think about him."
Her mother approached her. "What about yourself, Ellen," she inquired gently, "yourself and him? He's the one you told your father of."
"He is."
"He's married, Ellen; you'd not told your father that of him."
"No. I didn't think it made any difference."
"That he's married, Ellen?"
"I didn't know he'd . . . come anywhere for me. But he came here," she whispered, so troubled within herself that her mother made no reproach of her.
"The night he came, Ellen, he was just a tired boy. And I'd have liked everything about him yesterday, weren't he married."
Married! thought Ellen; How much was he married, and why? Why was his wife away from him? She could not mention to her mother these things. Her mother was not "misdoubting" anything done; but "you love him,
