"I can trust myself now, Mrs. Wrandall," said Hetty steadily as
they hesitated for an instant before turning the knob of the door.
"Then, I shall ask YOU to open the door," said Sara, drawing back.
Without a word or a look, Hetty opened the door and permitted the
other to pass out before her. Then she followed, closing it gently,
even deliberately, but not without a swift glance over her shoulder
into the depths of the room they were leaving.
Of the two, Sara Wrandall was the paler as they went up the broad
staircase with Leslie.
The funeral oration by the Rev. Dr. Maltby dragged on. Among all
his hearers there was but one who believed the things he said of
Challis Wrandall, and she was one of two persons who, so the saying
goes, are the last to find a man out; his mother and his sister.
But in this instance the mother was alone. The silent, attentive
guests on the lower floor listened in grim approval: Dr. Maltby
was doing himself proud. Not one but all of them knew that Maltby
KNEW. And yet how soothing he was.
Thus afterwards, to his wife, on the way home after a fruitful
silence, spoke Colonel Berkimer, well known to the Tenderloin:
"When I die, my dear, I want you to be sure to have Maltby in for
the sermon. He's really wonderful."
"You don't mean to say you BELIEVED all that he said," cried his
wife.
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