Sue's lightness grated all along her nerves.

"Did you like Mary Sherwood's hat? Too many flowers, don't you think so?

And she _will_ wear light blue with her sallow face! Wasn't it a queer sermon, too? Don't you think it is wicked for ministers to frighten people so? He said that we make our own lives, that we choose every day, and that every choice has an influence. You think that I don't listen because I stare around, don't you? I sha'n't forget that ever, because I have just had a choice that will influence my life; and I chose _not_ to do it. It's hateful to have Miss Jewett away; I won't go to Bible cla.s.s, and I won't let you, either. I have a book to read, or I can go to sleep."

"Yes, you can go to sleep."

"I have something to tell you," said Sue, shyly, hesitating as she glanced into Tessa's quiet, almost stern, face.

"Not now-in the street."

"Oh, no, when we are by ourselves. Our parlors are lovely now; you will see how I have fixed up things. Father is so delighted to have me home that he will let me do any thing I like."

Voices behind them and voices before them, now and then a soft, Sunday laugh; through the pauses of Sue's talk Tessa listened, catching at any thing to keep herself from thinking.

"A rare sermon."

"It will do me good all the week."

"The most becoming spring hat I've seen."

"He is very handsome in the pulpit."

"Come over to tea."

"I expect to do great things this summer."

"If I could talk like that I'd set people to thinking."

"We sha'n't get out of trouble in _this_ world."

"When I can't forgive myself, I just let go of myself, and let G.o.d forgive me."

She wished that she could see that face; the voice sounded familiar, the reply was in a man's voice; she felt as if she were listening, but she would have liked to hear the reply, all the more when she discovered that the talkers were Mr. Lewis Gesner and his sister.

"_Isn't_ she handsomely dressed?" exclaimed Sue in admiration. "She pa.s.sed me without seeing me. He is so wrapped up in that sister that he will never be married."

The crowd became thinner; couples and threes and fours, sometimes only one, entered at each gate as they moved on; they pa.s.sed down the long street almost alone; Dr. Greyson's new house stood nearly a mile from the Park; there was a gra.s.s plot in front and stables in the rear.

Dr. Lake was driving around to the stables.

"I hoped that he wouldn't be home to lunch; he's awful cross," said Sue, with a pout and a flush. Fifteen minutes later the lunch bell rang; Dr.

Greyson hurried in as they were seating themselves at the table.

Tessa's quickened heart-beats would not allow her to ask about Felix; she knew that her voice would betray her agitation; Dr. Lake had shaken hands and had not stopped to speak to her; his miserable face was but a repet.i.tion of yesterday.

Dr. Greyson seldom talked of anything but his patients and he was interested in Felix Harrison, she knew that she had but to wait patiently.

"Susie is a perfect housekeeper, isn't she? Somebody will find it out, I'm afraid."

"That's all I am," said Sue. "Father, why didn't you educate me?"

"Educate a kitten!"

"How is Felix Harrison?" inquired Dr. Lake.

"Bad! Bad enough. That fellow has been walking around with a brain fever. He'll pull through with care. Miss Jewett will stay until they can get a nurse; I would rather keep _her_, though. I warned him months ago. I told him that it would come to this. He has thrown away his life; he'll never be good for any thing again. I am glad that he has a father to take care of him; lucky for him, and not so lucky for his father. I wouldn't care to see my son such a wreck as he'll be. Why a man born with brains will deliberately make a fool of himself, I can't understand. Teaching and studying law and what not? He will have fits as long as he lives coming upon him any day any hour; he will be as much care as an infant. More, for an infant does grow up, and he will only become weaker and weaker mentally and physically. He has been under some great excitement, I suspect. _They_ don't know what it is. He came home late last night; his father heard a noise in his room and went in to find him as crazy as a loon. He said that he had heard him talking in his sleep all night long for two or three nights. I hope that he isn't engaged. I know a case like his, and that poor fellow _was_ engaged."

"Of course that ended it," said Sue. "A sick husband of all things. I would drown myself, if I had a sick husband."

"Of course it ended it. It almost broke her heart, though; broke it for a year, and then a dashing cousin of his mended it."

"Perhaps Felix hasn't any cousin. Dr. Lake, will you have more coffee?"

Sue spoke carelessly, not meeting his glance.

"Thank you, no."

Dr. Greyson ran on talking and eating: "I told the old man the whole truth; he begged so hard to know the worst. He cried like a baby. He was proud of Felix. Felix was a fine fellow,-a n.o.ble fellow. But he's dead now; dead, _and_ buried."

"Does Laura know?" inquired Sue, helping herself to sweet pickled peaches. Tessa was tasting the peaches, her throat so full of sobs that she swallowed the fruit with pain.

"No, of course not. I told Miss Jewett to tell her any thing, but be sure to keep her up. He won't die. Why should he? It will come gradually to her. The very saddest case I know. And to think that it might have been avoided. I didn't tell his father _that_, though. Felix has no one but himself to thank. I warned him a year ago. Brains _without_ common sense is a very poor commodity. What did the minister tell you Miss Tessa? I haven't been to church since Sue was a baby."

"No wonder that I'm a heathen, then; any body would be with such a father," retorted Sue.

Dr. Lake excused himself abruptly, and crossing the hall went into the office.

"That foolish boy has taught me a lesson. I would take a vacation this summer, only if I leave Sue at home she would run off and marry Lake before a week."

"You needn't be afraid," answered Sue, scornfully. "I look higher than Gerald Lake."

The office door stood ajar. Sue colored with vexation as the words in her high voice left her lips.

"Shall we go into the parlor?" she said rising. "You can find a book and I'll go to sleep."

The parlors had been refurnished in crimson and brown. Standing in the centre of the front parlor, Tessa exclaimed, "Oh, how pretty!"

"Isn't it? All my taste. Dr. Lake did advise me, though; he went with me. Now, you shall sit in the front or back just as you please, in the most comfortable of chairs, and I will sit opposite you and snooze,-that is," rather doubtfully, for she was afraid of Tessa, "unless you will let me tell you my secret."

In pa.s.sing through the rooms, Tessa had taken a volume of Josephus from a table; she settled herself at one of the back windows in a pretty crimson and brown chair, smoothed the folds of her black dress, folded her hands in her lap over the green volume, and looked up at Sue. Sue and a book in brown paper were in another crimson and brown chair at another window; flushed and vexed she played with the edges of her book.

"Do you think that he heard what I said?" she asked anxiously.

"You know as well as I."

She did not feel in a gentle mood towards Sue; her voice and words had rasped her nerves for the last hour.

"I didn't intend it for him," she was half crying, "but father provoked me. He does bother me so. I didn't flirt with him, I was real good and sisterly. I told him to call me Sister Sue. But after it all, he asked me to marry him, and was as mad as a hornet, and said dreadful things to me when I refused him."