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Of these last one stood apart, a shawl over her gray hair and her

hands folded as though obedient to a will greater than her own.

In all the color and pageant of departure May Schofield wondered

where her son might be, the son whom she felt had run away from

his just responsibilities. Two nights ago he had gone, and since

that time the little cottage had seemed worse than deserted.

Somehow the story of the solicitor and his visit went swiftly

around the village, and since that time Code's mother had been

the shrinking object of a host of polite but evidently pointed

inquiries.

To most of these there was really no adequate reply, and the good

woman had grown more hurt and more shrinking with every hour of

the day. Now, with little orphan Josie at her side, she came out

to see the departure of the fleet.