rl ten months ago. I have done my best, but I
left to-night, knowing that whatever happened I should never return."

"There is no one, then," he asked, "who is likely to make inquiries
about you? No one who could trace you here?"

"There is no one," she answered bitterly.

Powers looked at his watch.

"I am going to leave you alone for a quarter of an hour," he said. "I do
not think that it will make any difference, but I should like you to
have that time for unbiased reflection."

"As you like," she answered. "I shall not change my mind. I am ready."

She sat before the fire, her eyes fixed upon the burning coals. She
heard muffled voices in the hall, she heard Powers enter an adjoining
room, and close the door behind him. Her fingers clutched the sides of
her chair, her eyeballs were hot. For the first time a spasm of physical
fear seized her. He had gone to make ready. What if it should be death?
She had spoken boldly of it but a moment before. Yet she was young, for
good or evil her life was as yet unlived. Then with a rush came back the
memory of the last ten months. The hopeless weariness of those days
behind the counter, the miserable humiliation of it, the web of bitter
despair drawn so closely and inevitably around her. All the petty
tyrannies to which she had been subject, all the fettering restrictions
which had gone to turn servitude into slavery were suddenly fresh in her
mind. A hideous vista of dreary days and lonely nights--nowhere a ray of
hope; the same, yesterday, to-day, and all other days. The fear passed
away from her. Death might have its terrors, but a return to Bearmain's
would be a living hell. She heard the door open without a single tremor.
She even smiled as she saw Powers standing upon the threshold.

"You have not changed your mind?" he asked.

"There was never any fear of that," she answered. "I am quite ready."

He held open the door. "Will you come this way?" he said.

She rose at once, without reluctance or fear--even gladly. He was
beckoning her into a new life.

* * * * *

Sir Powers Fiske permitted himself the luxury of a rare emotion. His
patient had come back to life. The faint flush of recovery was upon her
cheeks, the light of a dawning intelligence was in her eyes. The first
stage of his great experiment had been successfully reached.

"So you are better, I see!" he remarked, standing by her bedside.

She answered him a little weakl