A tall figure, so wrapped and veiled that nothing but the womanly
outline could be discerned, entered, supported by John Hewett.
'Is there a light in the other room, Amy?' John inquired in a thick
voice.
'Yes, father.'
He led the muffled form into the chamber where Amy and Annie slept.
The door closed, and for several minutes the three children stood
regarding each other, alarmed, mute. Then their father joined them.
He looked about in an absent way, slowly drew off his overcoat, and
when Amy offered to take it, bent and kissed her cheek. The girl was
startled to hear him sob and to see tears starting from his eyes.
Turning suddenly away, he stood before the fire and made a pretence
of warming himself; but his sobs overmastered him. He leaned his
arms on the mantel-piece.
'Shall I pour out the tea, father?' Amy ventured to ask, when there
was again perfect silence.
'Haven't you had yours?' he replied, half-facing her.
'Not yet.'
'Get it, then--all of you. Yes, you can pour me out a cup--and
put another on the little tray. Is this stuff in the saucepan
ready?' 'Mrs. Eagles said it would be in five minutes.'.
'All right.
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