on the ever gaping wound in her invalid's
breast? She gasped in terror at the thought, then she faintly smiled,
for his eyes had opened again and showed a calm determination as he
said:

"I should like to see him. I should like him to answer the question I
have just put you. I should rest easier and get well faster--or not get
well at all."

This latter he half whispered, and Doris, tripping from the room may not
have heard it, for her face showed no further shadow as she ushered in
Mr. Challoner, and closed the door behind him. She had looked forward
to this moment for days. To Oswald, however, it was an unexpected
excitement and his voice trembled with something more than physical
weakness as he greeted his visitor and thanked him for his attentions.

"Doris says that you have shown me this kindness from the desire you
have to see me well again Mr. Challoner. Is this true?"

"Very true. I cannot emphasise the fact too strongly."

Oswald's eyes met his again, this time with great earnestness.

"You must have serious reasons for feeling so--reasons which I do not
quite understand. May I ask why you place such value upon a life which,
if ever useful to itself or others, has lost and lost forever, the one
delight which gave it meaning?"

It was for Mr. Challoner's voice to tremble now, as reaching out his
hand, he declared, with unmistakable feeling:

"I have no son. I have no interest left in life, outside this room and
the possibilities it contains for me. Your attachment to my daughter has
created a bond between us, Mr. Brotherson, which I sincerely hope to see
recognised by you."

Startled and deeply moved, the young man stretched out a shaking hand
towards his visitor, with the feeble but exulting cry:

"Then you do not blame me for her wretched and mysterious death. You
hold me guiltless of the misery which nerved her despairing arm?"

"Quite guiltless."

Oswald's wan and pinched features took on a beautiful expression and Mr.
Challoner no longer wondered at his daughter's choice.

"Thank God!" fell from the sick man's lips, and then there was a silence
during which their two hands met.

It was some minutes before either spoke and then it was Oswald who said:

"I must confide to you certain facts. I honoured your daughter and
realised her position fully. Our plight was never made in words, nor
should I have presumed to advance any claim to her hand if I had not
made good my expectations, Mr. Challo