Paul Ralston by Mary Jane Holmes

Jack Percy had been lain to rest beside his father and mother and old Roger in the family cemetery at Beechwood. The rain, which fell so heavily in Oak City, extended as far as Washington, and the Percy party were shivering with cold and drenched to the skin when they returned to the hotel. Mrs. Percy's house was rented for the summer, and Paul had secured rooms at the Arlington,-the best the house could give him, for he knew that the luxury of handsome surroundings would do much towards comforting Clarice. It was to have been their wedding day, and the sharp contrast was bitter and hard to bear. He had suggested that they be married quietly at once and go away by themselves, but Clarice would not listen.

"I was not so kind to Jack while living that I can afford to insult his memory now," she said. "Six months is as soon as I can possibly consider it."