By the piano stood a girl singing. I saw another room, up-stairs, and the same girl was there, and she held a little child in her arms, and she sang to him. I saw her ill,—her face white and thin, her pretty hair tossed on the pillow. I saw her coming and going, gay and sad. Ever and ever saw I Juliet. And I saw her as a ghost sees. I myself, I was not in the room with her, and her eyes never met mine. She was alive, but I was dead. And then suddenly a sharp pain darted through my heart, and I cried out,—
"Oh, tell me of her! Is she well?"
"Juliet?"
"Is she well? Did it do her good to go to the country? Is Bernard good to her?"
"Of course he is good to her! Why should he not be? Yes, she is well,—or was when I last heard."
"And happy? Is she still happy? And is the boy well? They were at home this winter? In our own house? Juliet would not stay in the country all winter{{SIC|?|?"}
"What on earth are you talking about? Don't you know they are in London?"
"In London!"
"All winter. They went there before Christmas. Don't you know that?"
"I know nothing about her, Duncan. I have heard nothing for a long, long time."
"How long?"
"You gave me her last letter."
He made no reply to this, but his face grew hard.
"Have they never tried to find you?"
"How should I know? No, I do not believe they could want to find me. They would be glad never to hear of me again."
"Janet!"
"It is true, Duncan."
"This is worse than I feared. But you have been hiding from every one, Janet. You need not blame any one but yourself. You do not know how difficult has been my search for you. I was in despair about you. I have looked everywhere for you,—here and in Philadelphia,—wherever I could go. You have hidden well."
"I have not hidden at all. I have not thought of hiding. I have lived along. Indeed, I think I have been dead."
He drew a long breath, as though he was in pain.
"It has been foolish in you to waste time in looking for me."
"I am always a fool where you are concerned, Janet. And you know nothing of Bernard and his wife?"
"Nothing."
"Not of their good fortune?"
"Their good fortune?" I repeated. "Oh, Duncan, has she the money? Is it that?"
"It is money. That is generally what good fortune means, Janet, and to them it was a godsend. It is not very much, but there is a valuable little estate, and money to keep it up if they choose to live there."
