At last the loud clang of the supper-bell ringing through the halls gave her a sudden start.
She clasped her hands across her forehead, while a look of anguish convulsed her face, then held them tightly against her heart and groaned aloud.
"God pity us both!" she cried, in a low, wailing voice, striking her hands together and lifting upward her eyes, that were full of the deepest anguish.
For a few moments her eyes were upraised.

Then her head sunk forward upon her bosom, and she sat an image of helpless despair.
A knock at the door roused her.

She started to her feet and opened it with nervous haste.
"A letter for you," said a servant.
She took it from his hand and shut and locked the door before examining the handwriting on the envelope.

It was that of her husband.

She tore it open with trembling hand and read: "DEAR EDITH: An order requiring my presence in Washington to-morrow morning has just reached me, and I have only time to make the train.