She leaned against the low mantelpiece, and motioned me forward with a cold, fixed look.
"You are aware," she said, in a hard, icy voice--oh so unlike the sweet tones of only yesterday--"what Father Francis came here yesterday to say.

You and my father might have told me sooner; but I blame nobody.

What I want to say is this: From this hour I never wish to hear from anyone the slightest allusion to the past; I never want to hear the names of those who are gone.

I desire you to tell this to my father and sister.

Your influence over them is greater than mine." I bowed assent without looking up; I could feel the icy stare with which she was regarding me, without lifting my eyes.
"Father Francis mentioned a letter that R----"; she hesitated for a moment, and finally said--"that she sent you.