Hair, eyes, and figure gave her at first glance an appearance of almost girlish loveliness.
And then, all at once, the difference swept upon him.

She was like Josephine as he had seen her in that hour of calm despair when she had come to him at the canoe.

Home-coming had not brought her happiness.
Her face was colourless, her cheeks slightly hollowed, in her eyes he saw now the lustreless glow which frequently comes with a fatal sickness.

He was smiling and holding out his hand to her even as he saw these things, and at his side he heard Josephine say: "Mother, this is Philip." The hand she gave him was small and cold.

Her voice, too, was wonderfully like Josephine's.
"I was not expecting to see you to-night, Philip," she said.