How he hugged her to his bosom--never heeding that she gave him
back but one answering kiss, a cold, a frozen thing, which would
not thaw even after it touched his lips, so full of life and
warmth. Poor, deluded man! he fancied that the tears he felt upon
his face were tears of joy at being home again; but alas! alas!
they were tears wrung out by a feeling of dreary home-sickness--a
longing to be somewhere else--to have some other one than Richard
chafing her cold hands and calling her pet names. He looked older,
too, than he used to do, and Edith thought of what he once had
said about her seeing the work of decay go on in him while she yet
was young and vigorous. Still her voice was natural as she
answered his many questions and greeted Mrs. Matson who came in to
see her as soon as she heard of her arrival.
"In mourning!" the latter exclaimed as with womanly curiosity she
inspected Edith's dress.
Richard started, and putting his hand to Edith's neck, felt that
her collar was of crape, and a shadow passed over his face.
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