el could get opportunity to explain how she
came all unknowingly to be in his house, and even then he could not
understand what joyful circumstance had set her face fortward and
dropped her at his door. So she had to go back to the letter, the letter
which was the cause of it all, and yet for the moment had been
forgotten. She brought it forth now, and his face, all tender with the
joy of her presence, grew almost glorified when he knew that it was she
who had been his mother's tender nurse and beloved friend through the
last days of her life.

With clasped hands they talked together of his mother. Hazel told him
all: how she had come upon her that summer's day, and her heart had
yearned to know her for his sake; and how she had gone back again, and
yet again; all the story of her own struggles for a better life. When
she told of her cooking lessons he kissed the little white hands he
held, and when she spoke of her hospital work he touched his lips to
eyes and brow in reverent worshipfulness.

"And you did all that because----?" he asked and looked deep into her
eyes, demanding hungrily his answer.

"Because I wanted to be worthy of your love!" she breathed softly, her
eyes down-drooped, her face rosy with her confession.

"Oh, my darling!" he said, and clasped her close once more. Almost the
letter itself was forgotten, until it slipped softly to the floor and
called attention to itself. There was really after all no need for the
letter. It had done its intended work without being read. But they read
it together, his arm about her shoulders, and their heads close, each
feeling the need of the comforting love of the other because of the
bereavement each had suffered.

And thus they read:

"MY DEAR SON:

"I am writing this letter in what I believe to be
the last few days of my life. Long ago I made our
dear doctor tell me just what would be the signs
that preceded the probable culmination of my
disease. He knew I would be happier so, for I had
some things I wished to accomplish before I went
away. I did not tell you, dear son, because I knew
it could but distress you and turn your thoughts
away from the work to which you belong. I knew
when you came home to me for that dear last visit
that I had only a little while longer left here,
and I need not tell you what those blessed days of