Marion had cut deeper than she knew, and he would carry the wound for many a day before it healed.
But his sister felt instantly how cruel she had been, as she saw him limp away, and caught sight of the bowed shoulders and the prematurely grey hair.

Her heart smote her.

She ran over, and impulsively put her hands on his shoulder.

"Oh, Dick," she said, "forgive me, Dick! I didn't mean it.

I was angry and foolish and hateful." He took one of her hands as it rested on his shoulder, she standing partly behind him, and raised it to his lips, but he did not turn to her; he could not.
"It is all right--all right," he said; "it doesn't make any difference.
Let us think of Frank and what we have got to do.