"Your husband will never forgive me!" he cried; and Daphne felt an odd thrill at the word. "You must run along. Come in and I'll give you some little gift to take him, just so the day will not pass unmarked by me. To-morrow I shall call upon you in state."
They turned in through the little hall to the sitting room where burned the student lamp. Daphne stopped short in the doorway with a startled gasp. She turned pale and seized convulsively the Colonel's arm.
"What is it, my dear?" he asked.
Daphne swallowed twice, and laughed a little uncertainly.
"Nothing; nothing," she disclaimed, but her eyes were still turned staring past the student lamp.
"But it must have been something," insisted the Colonel. He was smiling down on her; and somehow there seemed to be in his smile an understanding.
"Godpapa," Daphne was impelled to confess, "it sounds foolish and queer. But as I came into the doorway I looked across the table and there in the old Boston rocker, just for a second, I thought I saw Aunt Allie sitting as she used to. And she was so real! so very real!"
"You must not mind that, my dear," said the Colonel, gently. "Why, I've seen her there always."
