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 Loamford seemed to be in a state of exhaustion. Dorothy kissed her and left. Uncle Elliott arrived shortly. He kissed Dorothy gently and entered the room where his brother-in-law had died. He came out again after a few minutes and went to the telephone in the hall, where he made arrangements for the funeral. He spoke briefly with Dr. Knight, and announced that he would stay at the Loamford house that evening.

There was nothing for Dorothy to do. Death had come into her life suddenly and quietly. She had seen some of her friends under like conditions. Always, it had seemed to her, there was a tenseness, a hysteria. The loss of a parent, she had learned, was one of the great tragedies of life. And yet, her father was lying dead in the house and there was nothing more than an unwonted silence. She had little to say to her mother. Her mother had little to say to her. They spoke of everyday things, such as ordering the meat and sending the servant girl to the grocer. Animation had passed from the routine existence of their daily lives. Otherwise, things had not changed.

The funeral was attended by almost two hundred persons. Loamford had never had many friends, so far as his family knew. There were a few elderly gentlemen who came up now and then to play cards. Beyond these, he seemed to have no intimates, nor had he ever sought companions. Yet it seemed as though all the employees of the Cosmopolitan Bonding Company were trying to crowd into the parlor. They gathered in little groups in the hall and spoke in subdued voices. Dorothy and her mother sat upstairs in the library, dressed in mourning, and saying nothing. Now and then Mrs. Loamford sobbed gently.

Finally Uncle Elliott came in with Dr. Welch, who was to conduct the services. Dorothy remembered Dr.