oy as this was all life had for her, henceforth. There was no
restlessness, no selfishness in the love that had so suddenly asserted
itself, and borne down all her doubts. She thought not of it, as love,
any more. She never dreamed of being other to Mr. Armstrong than she
was. Only, that other life had become impossible to her. Here, if she
might not elsewhere, she had gone back to the things that were. She
could be quite content and happy, so. It was enough to rest in such a
friendship. If only she had once seen Paul, and if he could but bear it!

And Roger Armstrong, of intent, was just what he had always been--the
kind and earnest friend--the ready helper--no more. He knew Faith
Gartney had a trouble to bear; he had read her perplexity--her
indecision; he had feared, unselfishly, for the mistake she was making.
Miss Henderson had told him, now, in few, plain words, how things were
ending; he strove, in all pleasant and thoughtful ways, to soothe and
beguile her from her harassment. He dreamed not how the light had come
to her that had revealed to her the insufficiency of that other love. He
laid his own love back, from his own sight.

So, calmly, and with what peace they might, these hours went on.

"I want to see that Sampson woman," said Aunt Faith, suddenly, to her
niece, on the third afternoon of their being together. "Do you think she
would come over here if I should send for her?"

Faith flashed a surprised look of inquiry to Miss Henderson's face.

"Why, aunt?" she asked.

"Never mind why, child. I can't tell you now. Of course it's something,
or I shouldn't want her. Something I should like to know, and that I
suppose she could tell me. Do you think she'd come?"

"Why, yes, auntie. I don't doubt it. I might write her a note."

"I wish you would. Mr. Armstrong says he'll drive over. And I'd like to
have you do it right off. Now, don't ask me another word about it, till
she's been here."

Faith wrote the note, and Mr. Armstrong went away.

Miss Henderson seemed to grow tired, to-day, after her dinner, and at
four o'clock she said to Glory, abruptly:

"I'll go to bed. Help me into the other room."

Faith offered to go too, and assist her. But her aunt said, no, she
should do quite well with Glory. "And if the Sampson woman comes, send
her in to me."

Faith was astonished, and a little frightened.

What could it be that Miss Henderson wanted with the nurse? Was it
professionally that she wished to