where they are."

Neither Sarah nor Grover made any remark, and in silence the servants went
to their rooms. Margaret closed the door and turned to look at Esther, who
had fallen on the chair, her eyes fixed in vacancy.

"I know what it is; I was the same when Jim Story got the sack. It seems
as if one couldn't live through it, and yet one does somehow."

"I wonder if they'll marry."

"Most probable. She has a lot of money."

Two days after a cab stood in the yard in front of the kitchen window.
Peggy's luggage was being piled upon it--two large, handsome basket boxes
with the initials painted on them. Kneeling on the box-seat, the coachman
leaned over the roof making room for another--a small box covered with red
cowhide and tied with a rough rope. The little box in its poor simplicity
brought William back to Esther, whelming her for a moment in so acute a
sense of her loss that she had to leave the kitchen. She went into the
scullery, drew the door after her, sat down, and hid her face in her
apron. A stifled sob or two, and then she recovered her habitual gravity
of expression, and continued her work as if nothing had happened.




XII