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 stopped answering my letters." Miss Comfort was silent a moment, gazing down at the thin hands folded in her lap. "I fear," she went on at length, "Amanda gathered the impression that I didn't approve of her husband. Well, I don't suppose I did. I mean that I didn't approve of him for her. You see, he was younger than Amanda by several years, and then he was a foreigner."

"A foreigner!" exclaimed Polly. "Why, I didn't know that, Miss Comfort."

Miss Comfort nodded. "Yes, he was a Frenchman, Polly. Of course there are undoubtedly many most estimable French gentlemen, but it did seem to me that if Amanda had to marry she might have found a man of her own race." Miss Comfort sighed and then she laughed apologetically. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. Oh, yes, I was trying to explain about Mr. Goupil, wasn't I? Well, you see, after Amanda was married I never saw either her or her husband. They lived in Chicago a year or so and then moved further west, and after that I lost all trace of them until I received word lately of Amanda's death. After that came this letter