Tell mamma she's very kind, and I'm much obliged." "Ya'as, Miss Zoe," and Agnes courtesied and withdrew.
Zoe took a sip of the coffee, tasted the omelet, found a coming appetite, and went on to make a tolerably hearty meal, growing more cheerful and hopeful as she ate.
But grief overcame her again as she went about the solitary rooms; it seemed as if her husband's presence lingered everywhere, and yet as if he were dead and buried, and she never to see him more.
Not quite a year had elapsed since her father's death, and the scenes of that day and night and many succeeding ones came vividly before her; the utter forlornness of her condition, alone in a strange land with a dying parent, with no earthly comforter at hand, no friend or helper in all the wide world, and how Edward then flew to her assistance, how kindly he ministered to her dying father, how tenderly he took her in his arms, whispering words of love and sympathy, and asking her to become his wife and give him the right to protect and care for her.
And how he had lavished favors and endearments upon her all these months; how patiently he had borne with petulance and frequent disregard of his known wishes, nor ever once reminded her that she owed her home and every earthly blessing to him.
How he had sympathized with her in her bursts of grief for her father, soothing her with tenderest caresses and assurances of the bliss of the departed, and reminding her of the blessed hope of reunion in the better land.
After all this, she surely might have borne a little from him--a trifling neglect or reproof, a slight exertion of authority, especially as she could not deny that she was very young and foolish to be left to her own guidance.
And perhaps he had a right to claim her obedience, for she knew that she had promised to give it.
She found she loved him with a depth and passion she had not been aware of.

But he had gone away without a good-by to her, in anger, and with Miss Deane.

He would never have done that if there had been a spark of love left in his heart.
Where and how was he going to spend that week or ten days?
At the house of Miss Deane's parents, sitting beside her, hearing her talk and enjoying it, though he knew his little wife at home must be breaking her heart because of his absence?
Was he doing this instead of carrying out his half threat of locking her up?
Did he know that this was a punishment ten times worse?
But if he wasn't going to love her any more, if he was tired of her and wanted to be rid of her, how could she ever bear to stay and be a burden and constant annoyance to him?
Elsie, coming up a little later, found her in her boudoir crying very bitterly.
"Dear child, my dear little daughter," she said, taking her in her kind arms, "don't grieve so; a week or even ten days will soon roll round, and Edward will be with you again." "O mamma, it is a long, long while!" she sobbed.

"You know we've never been parted for a whole day since we were married, and he's all I have." "Yes, dear, I know; and I felt sure you were crying up here and didn't want to show your tell-tale face at the table, so I sent your breakfast up.

I hope you paid it proper attention--did not treat it with neglect ?" she added sportively.
"It tasted very good, mamma, and you were very kind," Zoe said.
She longed to ask where and on what errand Edward had gone, but did not want to expose her ignorance of his plans.
"I did not know the ladies were going to-day," she remarked.
"It was very sudden," was the reply; "a telegram received this morning summoned them home because of the alarming illness of Miss Deane's father, and as Edward had business to attend to that would make it necessary for him to take a train leaving only an hour later than theirs, he thought it best to see them on their way as far as our city.