The end came after four days during which Jennie was by his bedside almost constantly. The nurse in charge welcomed her at first as a relief and company, but the physician was inclined to object. Lester, however, was stubborn. “This is my death,” he said, with a touch of grim humour. “If I’m dying I ought to be allowed to die in my own way.”

Watson smiled at the man’s unfaltering courage. He had never seen anything like it before.

There were cards of sympathy, calls of inquiry, notices in the newspaper. Robert saw an item in the Inquirer, and decided to go to Chicago. Imogene called with her husband and they were admitted to Lester’s room for a few minutes after Jennie had gone to hers. Lester had little to say. The nurse cautioned them that he was not to be talked to much. When they were gone Lester said to Jennie, “Imogene has changed a good deal.” He made no other comment.

Mrs. Kane was on the Atlantic three days out from New York the afternoon Lester died. He had been meditating whether anything more could be done for Jennie, but he could not make up his mind about it. Certainly it was useless to leave her more money. She did not want it. He had been wondering where Letty was and how near her actual arrival might be when he was seized with a tremendous paroxysm of pain. Before relief could be administered in the shape of an anaesthetic he was dead. It developed afterward that it was not the intestinal trouble which killed him, but a lesion of a major blood-vessel in the brain.

Jennie, who had been strongly wrought up by watching and worrying, was beside herself with grief. He had been a part of her thought and feeling so long that it seemed now as though a part of herself had died. She had loved him as she had fancied she could never love any one, and he had always shown that he cared for her — at least in some degree. She could not feel the emotion that expresses itself in tears — only a dull ache, a numbness which seemed to make her insensible to pain. He looked so strong — her Lester — lying there still in death. His expression was unchanged — defiant, determined, albeit peaceful. Word had come from Mrs. Kane that she would arrive on the Wednesday following. It was decided to hold the body. Jennie learned from Mr. Watson that it was to be transferred to Cincinnati, where the Paces had a vault. Because of the arrival of various members of the family, Jennie withdrew to her own home; she could do nothing more.

The final ceremonies presented a peculiar commentary on the anomalies of existence. It was arranged with Mrs. Kane by wire that the body should be transferred to Imogene’s residence, and the funeral held from there. Robert, who arrived the night Lester died; Berry Dodge, Imogene’s husband; Mr. Midgely, and three other citizens of prominence were selected as pall-bearers. Louise and her husband came from Buffalo; Amy and her husband from Cincinnati. The house was full to overflowing with citizens who either sincerely wished or felt it expedient to call. Because of the fact that Lester and his family were tentatively Catholic, a Catholic priest was called in and the ritual of that Church was carried out. It was curious to see him lying in the parlour of this alien residence, candles at his head and feet, burning sepulchrally, a silver cross upon his breast, caressed by his waxen fingers. He would have smiled if he could have seen himself, but the Kane family was too conventional, too set in its convictions, to find anything strange in this. The Church made no objection, of course. The family was distinguished. What more could be desired?

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