"Yes, she's put on mourning," smiled Miss Maggie, as he came to a dismayed stop. "She would do it. She declared she wouldn't feel half decent unless she did, with that poor man dead, and giving her all that money."

"But he isn't dead—that is, they aren't sure he's dead," amended Mr. Smith hastily.

"But Flora thinks he is. She says he must be, or he would have appeared in time to save all that money. She's very much shocked, especially at Hattie, that there is so little respect being shown his memory. So she is all the more determined to do the best she can on her part."

"But she—she didn't know him, so she can't—er—really MOURN for him," stammered the man. There was a most curious helplessness on Mr. Smith's face.

"No, she says she can't really mourn," smiled Miss Maggie again, "and that's what worries her the most of anything—because she CAN'T mourn, and when he's been so good to her—and he with neither wife nor chick nor child TO mourn for him, she says. But she's determined to go through the outward form of it, at least. So she's made herself some new black dresses, and she's bought a veil. She's taken Mr. Fulton's picture (she had one cut from a magazine, I believe), and has had it framed and, hung on her wall. On the mantel beneath it she keeps fresh flowers always. She says it's the nearest she can come to putting flowers on his grave, poor man!"

"Good Heavens!" breathed Mr. Smith, falling limply into a chair.

"And she doesn't go anywhere, except to church, and for necessary errands."

"That explains why I haven't seen her. I had wondered where she was."

"Yes. She's very conscientious. But she IS going later to Niagara. I've persuaded her to do that. She'll go with a party, of course,—one of those 'personally conducted' affairs, you know. Poor dear! she's so excited! All her life she's wanted to see Niagara. Now she's going, and she can hardly believe it's true. She wants a phonograph, too, but she's decided not to get that until after six months' mourning is up— it's too frivolous and jolly for a house of mourning."

"Oh, good Heavens!" breathed Mr. Smith again.

"It is funny, isn't it, that she takes it quite so seriously? Bessie suggested (I'm afraid Bessie was a little naughty!) that she get the phonograph, but not allow it to play anything but dirges and hymn tunes."

"But isn't the woman going to take ANY comfort with that money?" demanded Mr. Smith.