Their intensity alarmed her two companions, and the forced
composure and latent strength of character of Gladys were tried to the
utmost to sustain her own equilibrium. But as the afternoon wore away
Lillian grew calmer, though her mind never deviated from the subject. The
trio had ceased to sit in the large reception hall, for its gun-rack and
rods and reels, its fur rugs, its trophies of sport, its mandolin and
flute and piano, were now pathetically reminiscent of the vanished
presence of its joyous and genial owner. They used instead the small
library which opened from it, where a spacious bay-window gave ample
light in the dreary days, and the big wood fire sent its flash and
fragrance to the remotest corner. It filled with a rich glow the fabric
of the little red coat as the mother held the sleeve to her lips and then
turned it to readjust the cuff creased in folding. "He used to look so
pretty in it. My beauty! My baby! My own!" she cried out in a voice
muffled, half-smothered, by her choking throat.
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