They could not speak of her who was with them, present in their thoughts.

Maggie shut the casement, and put a log of wood on the fire.

She sat down with her back to the window; but as the flame sprang up, and blazed at the touch of the dry wood, Frank saw that her face was wet with quiet tears.

Still her voice was even and gentle, as she answered his questions.

She seemed to understand what were the very things he would care most to hear.