Still I saw it was cold to others, for the women I passed were wrapped in shawls, and the men had their coats buttoned close.
When are we quite happy?
Was I so then?
No; an urgent and growing dread worried my nerves, and had worried them since the first moment good tidings had reached me.

How was Frances?
It was ten weeks since I had seen her, six since I had heard from her, or of her.

I had answered her letter by a brief note, friendly but calm, in which no mention of continued correspondence or further visits was made.

At that hour my bark hung on the topmost curl of a wave of fate, and I knew not on what shoal the onward rush of the billow might hurl it; I would not then attach her destiny to mine by the slightest thread; if doomed to split on the rock, or run a aground on the sand-bank, I was resolved no other vessel should share my disaster: but six weeks was a long time; and could it be that she was still well and doing well?
Were not all sages agreed in declaring that happiness finds no climax on earth?
Dared I think that but half a street now divided me from the full cup of contentment--the draught drawn from waters said to flow only in heaven?
I was at the door; I entered the quiet house; I mounted the stairs; the lobby was void and still, all the doors closed; I looked for the neat green mat; it lay duly in its place.
"Signal of hope!" I said, and advanced.

"But I will be a little calmer; I am not going to rush in, and get up a scene directly." Forcibly staying my eager step, I paused on the mat.
"What an absolute hush! Is she in?
Is anybody in ?" I demanded to myself.