ion

The turning-point was reached at last. One evening, at the close of his
usual visit, the doctor said to Grace:

"To-morrow, I think, you will see a marked alteration. I should not be
surprised to find on my next visit that his mind had become permanently
cleared. The intervals of half consciousness have become lengthened.
Unless some entirely unlooked-for change occurs, I feel sure that the
worst is over. Give him close attention to-night. Don't let the young
woman leave the room."

That night Anice watched with Joan. It was a strange experience through
which these two passed together. If Anice had not known the truth
before, she would have learned it then. Again and again Derrick went the
endless round of his miseries. How must it end? How could it end? What
must he do? How black and narrow the passages were! There she was,
coming toward him from the other end,--and if the props gave way------!
They _were_ giving way!--Good God! the light was out, and he was held
fast by the mass which had fallen upon him. What must he do about her
whom he loved, and who was separated from him by this horrible wall? He
was dying, and she would never know what he wanted to tell her. What was
it that he wanted to say,--That he loved her,--loved her,--loved her!
Could she hear him? He must make her hear him before he died,--"Joan!
Joan!"

Thus he raved hour after hour; and the two sat and listened, often in
dead silence; but at last there rose in Joan Lowrie's face a look of
such intense and hopeless pain, that Anice spoke.

"Joan! my poor Joan!" she said.

Joan's head sank down upon her hands.

"I mun go away fro' Riggan," she whispered. "I mun go away afore he
knows. Theer's no help fur me."

"No help?" repeated Anice after her.

She did not understand.

"Theer's none," said Joan. "Dunnot yo' see as ony place wheer he is con
be no place fur me? I thowt--I thowt the trouble wur aw on my side, but
it is na. Do yo' think I'd stay an' let him do hissen a wrong?"

Anice wrung her hands together.

"A wrong?" she cried. "Not a wrong, Joan--I cannot let you call it
that."

"It would na be nowt else. Am _I_ fit wife fur a gentlemon? Nay, my
work's done when the danger's ower. If he wakes to know th' leet o' day
to-morrow morning, it's done then."

"You do not mean," said Anice, "that you will leave us?"

"I conna stay i' Riggan; I mun go away."

Toward morning Derrick became quieter. He muttered less and less until
his