"Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive. "Sir Cecil is no more. CHAPTER XVI. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor.
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