"
"How?"
"It was one day when August had been up to your house. He was dreadfully
down in the mouth when he came back from that visit. He'd been jilted he
said, by you, and I told him right for ever trying to win the heart of a
rich girl. I said some very harsh things of you, Miss, things that I know
now weren't true. Of course I can see now that you had some good reason
for not wishing to marry a poor engineer, a reason that was above
regarding his poverty. I won't ask you what it was, for if the poor boy
is dead it won't make any difference, and--and--"
Poor mother.
She broke down then completely, and fell to sobbing on the breast of the
sympathetic Rose.
Ah, yes, she knew why she had refused to see the widow's son that
eventful day, and it was not poverty that drove him out of her life.
Rose, however, would not explain now, nor ever to Mrs. Bordine. She
realized that the kindly soul had never realized the truth regarding the
dual character of August.
If he never returned it was well that she should think of him always, as
now, true and dutiful, a model man and son in every respect.
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