She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers. There was nothing to be learned from her face. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. God knows how you did it. She gurgled. Her favor was sought beyond all women’s favors. Another horseman followed quickly at the heels of the first; but just as he passed the spot where Jack stood, his steed missed its footing, and fell. And now she had sent Jack away. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death.
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