onderfully
clear. Poor chap, he went all to pieces for a minute or two and,
holding her fingers, kissed them over and over again. "I want you to
forgive me, Don," she said again. "I thought I was better than God."
The poor fellow could only keep kissing her fingers. "My lips, Don, my
lips," and The Don kissed her on the lips twice, murmuring in a broken
voice, "My darling, my love, my love."

Then she looked up and smiled that old smile of hers--you remember, so
bright and so merry? By Jove, it broke me all up. And she said: "Now we
are all right, aren't we?" The doctor came and touched The Don. "No,
doctor," she said, "I am quite quiet. See, I am going to sleep. I want
you to stay there, Don. Good-night."

Mrs. Fairbanks and Helen came in. Helen gave The Don her hand, but Mrs.
Fairbanks paid no attention to him. Betty opened her eyes, saw her
mother and smiled. "Dear mother," she said, "see, there's Don." Mrs.
Fairbanks hesitated slightly, then reached out her hand across the bed.
"Thank you, dear mother," Betty said. "You must be good to him." Then
after a little while she said dreamily, like a tired child: "God
forgives us all, and we must forgive." She let her eyes rest on The
Don's face. "Good-night, Don, dear," she said, "I am going to sleep."

That was her last word, Shock. Just think of it--Betty's last word. I
cannot realise it at all. I wish my story ended there, but it does not.
For a time we sat there, the doctor hoping that a turn for the better
had come, but in about an hour the nurse noticed a change, and called
him. He came quickly, felt her pulse, injected something or other into
her arm. She opened her eyes. You remember how she would open those
lovely brown eyes of hers when anything surprised her. Well, she opened
them just that way, smiled brightly on one and then another, let her
eyes rest on The Don, gave a little sigh and closed them, and they
never opened again. "She is gone," the doctor said, and we all crowded
near. "Yes, she is gone," he said again.

Then The Don stood up, and putting out his hand to Mrs. Fairbanks,
said: "Mrs. Fairbanks, I want to thank you for allowing me to come."
But she drew herself away from him, refusing to touch his hand, and
motioning him off.

Poor chap! He turned back to the bed, kneeled down, touched the soft
brown hair with his hands, kissed the fingers again, and then without a
word went out. If anyone can tell me what that woman's heart is made
of, I woul