Then he would walk slowly back, taking the post office on his way, to inquire for letters from the folks, as he designated the absent ones.  These letters were a great comfort to him, especially those from Jerrie, who wrote him very often and told him all they were doing and seeing, and tried to make him understand how much she loved and sympathised with him.  Not a hint had been given him of the baby; and when, in June, he received a letter from her containing a photograph of the little boy named for him, he seemed childish in his joy, and started with the picture at once for Maude’s grave.  Kneeling down, with his face in the long grass, he whispered: 

’Look, Maude!—­Jerrie’s baby boy, named for me—­Frank Tracy!  Do you hear me, Maude?  Frank Tracy, for me—­who wronged her so.  God bless Jerrie, and give her many years of happiness when I am dead and gone, which will not now be long.  I am coming very soon, Maude; sooner than you think, and shall never see Jerrie’s little boy, God bless him!’

That night Frank seemed brighter than usual, and talked a great deal with his wife, who, to the last day of her life, was glad that she was kind to him and humored all his fancies; and once, when he lay upon the couch, with the baby’s picture in his hand, she went and sat by him and ran her fingers caressingly through his white hair, and asked if he were not better.

‘Yes, Dolly,’ he said, taking her fingers in his hand and holding them fast.  ’A great deal better.  Jerrie’s baby has done me good, and you, too, Dolly.  You don’t knew how nice it seems to have you smooth my hair; it is like the old days at Langley, when we sang in the choir together, and you were fond of me.’

‘I am fond of you now, Frank,’ Dolly replied, as she stooped to kiss the face in which there was a look she had never seen before, and which haunted her long after he had said good-night and gone to Maude’s room, where he said he would sleep, as he was likely to be restless and might keep her awake.

The next morning Dolly took her breakfast alone, for Frank did not join her.

‘Let him sleep,’ she said to the servant, who suggested calling him; but when some time later, he did not appear, she went herself to Maude’s room, into which the noonday sun was shining, for every blind and window was open and the light was so dazzling that for a moment she did not see the still figure stretched upon the bed, where with Maude’s picture in one hand and Jerrie’s baby’s in the other, her husband lay, calmly sleeping the sleep which knows no waking.

On his face there was a look of rapturous joy, and on his lips a smile as if they were framing the loved name of Maude when death came and sealed them forever.  Around him was no sign of struggle or pain, for the covering was not disturbed; and the physician when he came said he must have died quietly and possibly instantly without a note of warning.  They buried him beside his daughter and then Dolly was alone in the great house, which became so intolerable to her that she left it early in August and took possession of the cottage on the Ridge, which, though scarcely less lovely, was not as large as the Park House and did not seem haunted with the ghosts of the dead.