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"What does she do?" asked Patricia, delighted with the ease and candor of this speech. She felt sure this rickety, loose-jointed, pale-colored young woman was going to be worth while. "Yes, Mr. Haydon, sir," he said clearly. "We do not complain. Our trade keeps up, sir. We are the same as when you left, sir. We do not complain." Yes, I suppose it would have been lots better for my happiness if I had kept quiet about it all, but at the time I thought I had better consult him over the matter. Now I'm sorry I did. That is one thing about being a widow, you are accustomed to consulting a man, whether you want to or not, and you can't get over the habit immediately. Poor Mr. Carter, my husband, hasn't been dead much over six years, and I must be missing him most awfully, though just lately I can't remember not to forget about him a great deal of the time..
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Elinor nodded mutely and clasped Patricia's two hands in her own. Bruce took Patricia's other hand in his strong, warm grasp and the three stood for a silent second as much apart from the gay, noisy scene as though a curtain had dropped between them. "In that case you'll never hear what I have come to tell you." "The fact is David has not been quite himself since this trouble about Isabella," he said, gravely, "and he thinks it best to go away for a time. You know how he tortures himself over trifles." When she recovered herself in the dim corridor, Elinor, calm and reassuring, was on one side of her, while her other arm was in the firm grip of the cheery Griffin..
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