utiful mare who was his latest gift to me, and rode over
to Damerstown.

Mrs. Dawson received me in the drawing-room, affectionate as of old, but
with the air which asked forgiveness for the wrong her husband had done
us. It was an air that grieved me, and as I kissed her I passed my hand
over her forehead as though I would brush it away like a palpable thing.

"I thought, dearie," she said, "being what you are, that you'd be
happier in your own happiness if you knew things were well with my poor
Rick. He never did you any harm except to love you too much."

"No, indeed," I said hastily, "and I should be so glad to know that he
has forgiven and forgotten me. I've heard, of course, that he has quite
recovered and is going abroad. I shall always feel very kindly towards
him and very sorry because of any wrong I did him."

"You never did him any," the mother said.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her where Nora Brady was, for
that was a trouble to me, too, despite my happiness. The poor people
round about had, I was told, taken the same view of poor Nora's devotion
to her sick man as Maureen. She had slipped away from those who, like
myself, would have stood her friends. But before I could ask the
question Richard Dawson himself came into the room.

I was startled and a little embarrassed at first sight of him. I had had
no idea that he was at Damerstown. And his face was sadly marked and
pitted with the small-pox.

"Miss Devereux, you must forgive my presenting myself before you with
this hideous face, but there are some things I want to tell you. There,
don't look at me! Take this."

He picked up a Japanese fan and handed it to me and the action hurt me.
I compelled myself to look at him without flinching.

"You are not at all hideous," I said. "No one who cared for you would
think you hideous."

"Why, no," he said. "My mother looks at me as though I had the skin of a
young child--and there is another---- Miss Bawn, I wish you happiness. I
am very glad the better man has won."

"You are very generous."

While we talked Mrs. Dawson got up and left us. She was one of those
people who are always forgetting things and going in search of them, so
the action had no special significance.

"You are very generous," I said. And then I asked him the question which
was in my mind. "Mr. Dawson," I said, "can you tell me where Nora is? I
want to write to her, to bring her back."

"I know," he answered, "but she