So it was that boy who lay dying like a stranger in the bed of his son! She turned hurriedly and went out without speaking, without looking back when she opened the door.
"If one could only understand it," she said aloud as she entered the sitting-room; and then, with a start of surprise, she realized that O'Hara had followed her.

"You walked so softly I didn't hear you," she explained.
"The rugs are thick, and I have on slippers.

My boots were soaking when I came in, and I'd just taken them off when you called." They sat down again in front of the fire; and while she stared silently at the flames, with her chin on her hand and her elbow on the arm of the chair, he burst out so unexpectedly that she caught her breath in a gasp: "You didn't know that I was married, too, did you ?" His words, and even more than his words, his voice, filled with suppressed emotion, awoke her from her reverie in which she had been dreaming of Arthur.
She smiled evasively, remembering her promise to Mrs.Squires.
He hesitated again, and then spoke with an effort.

"Well, it was hell!" he said grimly.
"I know"-- she was very gentle, full of understanding and sympathy--"but you went through it bravely." "I stuck to her." His hand clenched while he answered.

Then, after a pause in which she watched him struggle against some savage instinct for secrecy, he added quietly: "If she were alive to-day, I'd be sticking to her still." "You must have loved her." It was all she could think of to say, and yet the words sounded trite and canting as soon as she had uttered them.
Lifting his head quickly, he made a contemptuous gesture of dissent.
"No, it wasn't that.