n the news was good, but when it was otherwise his lips
were sealed upon the subject. He never uttered a desponding word in
her presence.

But still, gradual, often halting though it was, he did make progress. He
went forward more than he slipped back. And ever he carried in his eyes
the light of a great hope. She knew that he did not despair, even in his
own hidden soul.

And day by day her love and admiration for the man grew and spread,
filling her life, renewing her youth, transforming her very existence.
Day by day she sounded greater depths of a nature that made her feel
infinitely small in comparison. Day by day she marvelled afresh at the
greatness and the simplicity that went to the making of this man's soul.

No one, save Mrs. Errol, knew of what had passed between them. They
scarcely referred to it even in private. There was no need, for the
understanding between them was complete. By mutual consent they awaited
the coming of Capper and the final miracle.

Slowly the dark, bitter days of January dragged away. The Hunt Ball had
been postponed till the following month when the Town Hall, which had
been building all the winter, should be complete. Anne, to her dismay,
had been unanimously elected to perform the opening ceremony. Her
position as Lady of the Manor made her prominent, and, no substitute
being forthcoming, she had been obliged reluctantly to consent. Her deep
mourning enabled her to avoid any succeeding social function, but, since
she had broken her seclusion, she found it impossible to escape the
ceremony itself.

She had never enjoyed social prominence, and she was thankful that at the
Hunt Ball at least her presence could not be expected. She never thought
of the last that she had attended without a shiver. It had been her
birthday, and this fact brought it to mind the more persistently. This
year she spent the day in the peaceful atmosphere of Baronmead, driving
home at length, through the frosty starlight, in the Errols' car.

She strove as she went to put away from her the memory of that other ride
of a year ago, when she had been borne swiftly through the darkness as
though upon wings, when she had lain back exhausted in her corner and
dreamed a strange, vivid dream, while Nap had sat upright beside her,
alert, silent, inscrutable, plucking the gloves to tatters between his
restless hands.

The vision would not be excluded, strive though she might. She leaned
amongst the cushions and