better. And please let the door be open; the
room is too hot.'

They went out silently, and Catherine sank down beside the bed. Her
heart went out in unspeakable longing towards the poor human wreck
before her. For her there was no morrow possible, no dawn of other and
softer skies. All was over: life was lived, and all its heavenly
capabilities missed for ever. Catherine felt her own joy hurt her, and
her tears fell fast.

'Mary,' she said, laying her face close beside the chill face on the
pillow, 'Mary, I went out; I climbed all the path as far as Shanmoss.
There was nothing evil there. Oh, I must tell you! _Can_ I make you
understand? I want you to feel that it is only God and love that are
real. Oh, think of them! He would not let you be hurt and terrified in
your pain, poor Mary. He loves you. He is waiting to comfort you--to set
you free from pain for ever; and He has sent you a sign by me.' ... She
lifted her head from the pillow, trembling and hesitating. Still that
feverish questioning gaze on the face beneath her, as it lay in deep
shadow cast by a light on the window-sill some paces away.

'You sent me out, Mary, to search for something, the thought of which
has been tormenting and torturing you. You thought God would let a dark
lost spirit trouble you and take you away from Him--you, His child, whom
He made and whom He loves! And listen! While you thought you were
sending me out to face the evil thing, you were really my kind
angel--God's messenger--sending me to meet the joy of my whole life!

'There was some one waiting here just now,' she went on hurriedly,
breathing her sobbing words into Mary's ear. 'Some one who has loved me,
and whom I love. But I had made him sad, and myself; then when you sent
me out he came too; we walked up that path, you remember, beyond the
larchwood, up to the top, where the stream goes under the road. And
there he spoke to me, and I couldn't help it any more. And I promised to
love him and be his wife. And if it hadn't been for you, Mary, it would
never have happened. God had put it into your hand, this joy, and I
bless you for it! Oh, and Mary--Mary--it is only for a little little
while this life of ours! Nothing matters--not our worst sin and
sorrow--but God, and our love to Him. I shall meet you some day--I pray
I may--in His sight and all will be well, the pain all forgotten--all!'

She raised herself again and looked down with yearning passionate pity
on the shadowe