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Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. The very blank, however, affected him more deeply than if it had been left. The unequal battle went on. At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my mother's dresses. Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. Still —there you are!” He paused. And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone.
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