ie
absolutely alone. Even Love, the magician, who for dazzling moments
gives new sight and boundless revelation, cannot always work his charm.
A third of our lives is spent in sleep, and who shall say what
proportion of the rest is endured in planetary isolation?

June came through the open windows of the house upon the brink of the
cliff and the Master dozed in his chair. The height was glaring, because
there were no trees. The spirit of German progress had cut down every
one of the lofty pines and maples, save at the edges of the settlement,
where primeval woods, sloping down to the valley, still flourished.

Fraeulein Fredrika sat with her face resolutely turned to the west. It
was Sunday and almost half-past four, but she would not look for the
expected guest. She preferred to concentrate her mind upon something
else, and when the rusty bell-wire creaked, experience all the emotion
of a delightful surprise.

At the appointed hour, he came, and the colour of dead rose petals
bloomed on the Fraeulein's withered face. "Herr Doctor," she said, "it is
most kind. Mine brudder will be pleased."

"Wake up!" cried the Doctor, with a hearty laugh, as he strode into the
room. "You can't sleep all the time!"

"So," said the Master, with an understanding smile, as he straightened
himself and rubbed his eyes, "it is you!"

Fraeulein Fredrika sat in the corner and watched the two whom she loved
best in all the world. No one was so wise as her Franz, unless it might
be the Herr Doctor, to whom all the mysteries of life and death were as
an open book.

"To me," said the Doctor, once, "much has been given to see. My Father
has graciously allowed me to help Him. I am first to welcome the soul
that arrives from Him, and I am last to say farewell to those He takes
back. What wonder if, now and then, I presume to send Him a message of
my faith and my belief?"

The Master's idea of satisfying companionship was not a flow of
uninterrupted talk, marred by much levity. He merely asked that his
friend should be near at hand, that he might communicate with him when
he chose. When he had a thought which seemed worthy of dignified
inspection, he would offer it, but not before.

On this particular afternoon, Lynn was exceedingly restless. Like
many other men, to whom the thing is impossible, he vaguely feared
feminisation. The variety of soft influences continually about him
had a subtle, enervating effect.

Iris was reading, his mot