till and
spoke so briefly. But only for a moment. He thought he understood her
hesitation, and a look of great earnestness replaced his former one of
grave decision.

"I know that in doing this I am going beyond my sacred compact with Miss
Challoner," he said. "I never thought of illness,--at least, of illness
on my part. I never dreamt that I, always so well, always so full of
life, could know such feebleness as this, feebleness which is all of
the body, Doris, leaving the mind free to dream and long. Talk of her,
child. Tell me all over again just how she looked and spoke that day you
saw her in New York."

"Would it not be better for me to write my letter first? Papa will be
coming soon and Truda can never cook your bird as you like it."

Surprised now by something not quite natural in her manner, he caught at
her hand and held her as she was moving away.

"You are tired," said he. "I've wearied you with my commission and
complaints. Forgive me, dear child, and--"

"You are mistaken," she interrupted softly. "I am not tired; I only
wished to do the important thing first. Shall I get my desk? Do you
really wish me to write?"

"Yes," said he, softly dropping her hand. "I wish you to write. It will
ensure me good sleep, and sleep will make me strong. A few words, Doris;
just a few words."

She nodded; turning quickly away to hide her tears. His smile had gone
to her very soul. It was always a beautiful one, his chief personal
attraction, but at this moment it seemed to concentrate within it the
unspoken fervours and the boundless expectations of a great love, and
she who was the aim and cause of all this sweetness lay in unresponsive
silence in a distant tomb!

But Doris' own smile was not lacking in encouragement and beauty when
she came back a few minutes later and sat down by his side to write.
His melted before it, leaving his eyes very earnest as he watched her
bending figure and the hard-worked little hand at its unaccustomed task.

"I must give her daily exercises," he decided within himself. "That look
of pain shows how difficult this work is for her. It must be made easy
at any cost to my time. Such beauty calls for accomplishment. I must not
neglect so plain a duty."

Meantime, she was struggling to find words in face of that great Dread.
She had written Dear Miss Challoner and was staring in horror at the
soulless words. Only her sense of duty upheld her. Gladly would she have
torn the sheet in t