It was enough to make one weep.
After tea I insisted on his taking my arm-chair; saying, that after such a walk, in that raw day, he must be very cold.
"Not the least--quite the contrary--feel my hand." It was burning.
"But I am tired--thoroughly tired." He leaned back and shut his eyes.

Oh, the utter weariness of body and soul that was written on his face! "Why did you go out alone?
John, you know that you have always me." He looked up, smiling.

But the momentary brightness passed.

Alas! I was not enough to make him happy now.
We sat silent.

I knew he would speak to me in time; but the gates of his heart were close locked.