As Mrs.
Nevill Tyson listened she leaned against the wall, with her hands clasped in front or her and her head thrown back to stop her tears from falling.
Her throat shook.

She was so young--only a child herself! A broad shaft of sunshine covered her small figure; her red dress glowed in the living light.

Looking at her, a pathetic idea came to Mrs.Wilcox.

"You never had a frock that became you more," she murmured between two sighs.

Mrs.
Nevill Tyson heard neither murmur nor sighs.