had ever put to the test.
With it was bound up the whole welfare of the woman he loved. He entered
the room without his usual confidence. Yet the moment he saw her his
heart beat with passionate hope.

She was lying upon a sofa, her hair loosely coiled upon the top of her
head, clad in a becoming morning wrap, white with streaming ribbons. At
the sound of the opening door she turned her head, and she greeted him
with a faint smile. As their eyes met he felt once more that passionate
thrill of hope. For the change in her face was manifest. This was
neither the brilliantly beautiful but soulless child who had taken
London by storm, nor the mystic, moody girl, hovering ever on the brink
of insanity, who had sung to him upon the seashore. It was the Eleanor
of his earlier knowledge, who greeted him now half-shyly, yet with a
certain mischievous look in her clear soft eyes.

"So, after all," she murmured, looking up at him, "I am a
disappointment. The great experiment is a failure. I really haven't
forgotten a single thing."

"Hang the experiment!" he declared cheerfully. "I lost all interest in
that long ago. All that I have been anxious for has been your recovery."

"I am so glad," she said. "I was afraid you would be terribly
disappointed. It really isn't my fault, is it?"

"Not in the least," he assured her heartily. "You were an excellent
subject. I suppose," he added, struggling to keep the anxiety out of his
tone, "there is no doubt about the failure of it?"

"Not the slightest. My memory feels particularly clear. You can
cross-examine me if you like."

"Well, I will ask you a few questions," he said. "Tell me your last
recollection before you came to yourself."

She answered him readily.

"I came to you here," she said, "and told you that I was dismissed from
Bearmain's. I heard your proposals and agreed to them. You sent for a
nurse and you gave me chloroform here. The very last thing in my mind is
that you walked to the window, and looked at your watch just before I
went off."

He drew a quick breath--it sounded almost a gasp. "It is wonderful!" he
exclaimed.

"Everything before that day--my miserable life at Bearmain's, your
kindness to me, and our little jaunts together," she said, "I can
remember quite clearly. I am sorry to wound your vanity, but your
experiment has been shockingly unsuccessful."

He smiled.

"It was a very foolish one," he declared. "I have been terribly worried
about you."