, to whom every death was nearer than his
own, and to whom the suffering of others was as a crucifixion, removed
the silk hat from his head, and wiped his forehead with a colored
handkerchief.

Margaret knelt by Aladdin and held his unconscious form in her arms.

Outside, the earth was bathing in exquisite sunshine.

XXXVII

It was not long before Aladdin got back the strength of his body, but
the gray bullet which had come in answer to his cry against God, even
as the lightning came to Amyas Leigh, in that romance to which it is so
good to bow, had injured the delicate mechanism of his brain, so that
it seemed as if he would go down to the grave without memory of things
past, or power upon the hour. Indeed, the war ended before the surgeons
spoke of an operation which might restore his mind. He went under the
knife a little child, his head full of pictures, playthings, and fear of
the alphabet; he came forth made over, and turned clear, wondering eyes
to the girl at his side. And he held her hand while she bridged over the
years for him in her sweet voice.

He learned that she had married Peter, making his death peaceful, and he
God-blessed her for so doing, while the tears ran down his cheeks.

But much of Aladdin that had slept so long was to wake no more. For it
was spring when he woke, and waking, he fell in love with all living
things.

One day he sat with Margaret on the porch of a familiar house, and
looked upon a familiar river that flowed silverly beyond the dark trees.

Senator St. John, very old and very moving, came heavily out of the
house, and laid his hands upon the shoulders of Margaret and Aladdin. It
was like a benediction.

"I have been thinking," said the senator, very slowly, and in the voice
of an old man, "that God has left some flowers in my garden."

"Roses?" said Aladdin, and he looked at Margaret.

"Roses perhaps," said the senator, "and withal some bittersweet, but,
better than these, and more, he has left me heart's-ease. This little
flower," continued the senator, "is sown in times of great doubt and
sorrow and trouble, and it will grow only for a good gardener, one who
has learned to bow patiently in all things to God's will, and to set his
feet valiantly against the stony way which God appoints. I call Margaret
'Heart's-ease,' and I call you, too, 'Heart's-ease,' Aladdin, for you
are becoming like a son to me in my declining years. Consider the
river, how it flows,"