As she came to the steps of the porch, Penhallow went to meet her, giving the help of his hand.
"Good-morning, Ellen," he said, "what brings you here over the snow this frosty day?
Do you want to see Mrs.Penhallow ?" For a moment she was too breathless to answer.

The withered leanness of the weary old face moved in an effort to speak, but was defeated by emotion.

She gasped, "Let me set down." He led her into the hall and gave her a chair.

Then he called his wife from her library-room.

Ann at once knew that something more than the effect of exertion was to be read in the moving face.