Under the Black Pall
been yourself for days. I've not seen you like this since we were here before, six years ago."
As the other made no reply, he came over and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Say, old chap," he asked, impulsively, "what's up? Why have we come to America again?"
The older man looked at the boyish face seriously.
"When you were a little beggar, Georgie," he said, "and had a tooth that ached, when it began you used to bite on it to make it worse. Do you remember? Well, that's what I've been doing."
He regarded gravely the puzzled eyes that looked into his. Then he went on, incisively:
"In other words, my boy, I heard that the only woman in the world for me was to bury herself alive to-day. I came to America, and I have seen her do it."
His look had not veered from his brother's eyes.
"I thought you'd got over that, years ago," said the boy, with awkward sympathy, turning his own gaze away.
"I hope when you're older you won't have reason to feel that the Carringtons don't get over such things," his brother replied, slowly.
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