Christopher had once measured themselves when they were
children; and the familiar sight of these two little notches, made by
Christopher's knife so long ago, awoke in her heart the purely human
longing for him as the friend and comrade she had known and looked up to
all her life. And with this longing came the terrible thought of how
she had hurt and misunderstood and misjudged him, and of how it was now
too late for her to make up to him in this life for all the happiness of
which she had defrauded him in her careless pride. Then, for the first
time since she was born, Elisabeth put her lips to the cup of remorse,
and found it very bitter to the taste. She had been so full of plans for
comforting mankind and helping the whole world; yet she had utterly
failed toward the only person whom it had been in her power actually to
help and comfort; and her heart echoed the wail of the most beautiful
love-song ever written--"They made me the keeper of the vineyards; but
mine own vineyard have I not kept."

As she was sitting, bowed down in utter anguish of spirit while the
waves of remorse flooded her soul, the door opened and the nurse came
in.

"Mr. Thornley is conscious now, and is asking for you, Miss Farringdon,"
she said.

Elisabeth started up, her face aglow with new hope. It was so natural to
her not to be cast down for long. "Oh! I am so glad. I want dreadfully
to see him, I have so much to say to him. But I'll promise not to tire
or excite him. Tell me, how long may I stay with him, Nurse, and how
quiet must I be?"

The nurse smiled sadly. "It won't matter how long you stay or what you
say, Miss Farringdon; I don't think it is possible for anything to hurt
or help him now; for I am afraid, whatever happens, he can not possibly
recover."

As she went upstairs Elisabeth kept saying to herself, "I am going to
see the real Christopher for the first time"; and she felt the old, shy
fear of him that she had felt long ago when Richard Smallwood was
stricken. But when she entered the room and saw the worn, white face on
the pillow, with the kind smile she knew so well, she completely forgot
her shyness, and only remembered that Christopher was in need of her,
and that she would gladly give her life for his if she could.

"Kiss me, my darling," he said, holding out his arms; and she knew by
the look in his eyes that every word of his letter was true. "I am too
tired to pretend any more that I don't love you. And it ca