"I knew your husband, too, many years ago; but he said that you were ill; I saw him this morning."
"I have been ill," she answered, quickly, and looked away, pushing back her hair with the little movement he knew so well.
"I am sorry for that," he said.
"I heard of your loss-I did not lose sight entirely of my friends. Your little boy," he added, his voice softening-"your little boy--"
"My baby died," she said.
"I know-I heard of it-I knew how keenly you could suffer.
But I knew, too, how brave you were--"
"Oh!" she said, catching the lace at her throat. "If he-if my baby had lived-I might-I could--"
She checked herself with a sudden biting of the lip, but the tears broke from her eyelids and she bowed her face.
"Ah," said the man, "I know-this is very hard; but it is something, after all, to have felt-to have known.
No loss can be so bitter as a lack-a need."
There was a moment's silence between them.
"Tell me of yourself," she said, quietly, at length.
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