which always qualifies a brave soul's prayer for immunity from pain:
"Unless--unless, O God, there be still some work left on this earth which
only I can do."

And the doctor had just said: "Send him her way, O God, in the fulness of
time."

The two prayers reached the Throne of Omniscience together.

* * * * *

Deryck Brand, looking up, saw the quiet eyes of Margaret O'Mara gazing
gratefully at him, across the bed. "Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled. "Never to be done lightly, Mrs. O'Mara," he said. "Everything
else should be tried first. But there are exceptions to the strictest
rules, and it is fatal weakness to hesitate when confronted by the
exception. Send for me, when she wakes; and, meanwhile, lie down on that
couch yourself and have some sleep. You are worn out."

The doctor turned away; but not before he had caught the sudden look of
dumb anguish which leaped into those quiet eyes. He reached the door;
paused a moment; then came back.

"Mrs. O'Mara," he said, with a hand upon her shoulder, "you have a sorrow
of your own?"

She drew away from him, in terror. "Oh, hush!" she whispered. "Don't ask!
Don't unnerve me, sir. Help me to think of her, only." Then, more calmly:
"But of course I shall think of none but her, while she needs me.
Only--only, sir--as you are so kind--" she drew from her bosom a crumpled
telegram, and handed it to the doctor. "Mine came at the same time as
hers," she said, simply.

The doctor unfolded the War Office message.

Regret to report Sergeant O'Mara killed in assault on Targai
yesterday.

"He was a good husband," said Margaret O'Mara, simply; "and we were very
happy."

The doctor held out his hand. "I am proud to have met you, Mrs. O'Mara.
This seems to me the bravest thing I have ever known a woman do."

She smiled through her tears. "Thank you, sir," she said, tremulously.
"But it is easier to bear my own sorrow, when I have work to do for
her."

"God Himself comfort you, my friend," said Deryck Brand, and it was all
he could trust his voice to say; nor was he ashamed that he had to fumble
blindly for the handle of the door.

* * * * *

The doctor had finished breakfast, and was asking Groatley for a
time-table, when word reached him that Lady Ingleby was awake. He went
upstairs immediately.

Myra was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows. Her cheeks were
flushed;