s for you." She hesitated
and Nan broke in hastily:

"Bad news? What--who is it? Not--_not_ Uncle David?" Her voice rose a
little shrilly.

Kitty nodded, her face very sorrowful. And now Nan noticed that she
had evidently been crying before she came to the flat.

"Yes. He died this morning--in his sleep. They sent round to let me
know. He had told his man to do this if--whenever it happened. He
didn't want you to have the shock of receiving a wire."

"I don't think it would have been a shock," said Nan at last, quietly.
"I think I knew it wouldn't be very long before--before he went away.
I've known . . . since Christmas."

Her thoughts went back to that evening when she and St. John had sat
talking together by the firelight in the West Parlour. Yes, she had
known--ever since then--that the Dark Angel was drawing near. And now,
now that she realised her old friend had stepped painlessly and
peacefully across the border-line which divides this world we know from
that other world whose ways are hidden from our sight, it came upon her
less as a shock than as the inevitable ending of a long suspense.

"I wish--I wish I'd seen him just once more," she said wistfully.
"To--to say good-bye."

Kitty searched the depths of her bag and withdrew a sealed envelope.

"I think he must have known that," she said gently. "He left this to
be given to you."

She gave the letter into the girl's hands and, signing to Penelope to
follow her, quitted the room, leaving Nan alone with her dead.

In the silence of the empty room Nan read the last words, of her
beloved Uncle David that would ever reach her.

"I think this is good-bye, Nan," he had written. "But don't grieve
overmuch, my dear. If you knew how long a road to travel it has seemed
since Annabel went away, you would be glad for me. Will you try to be?
Always remember that the road was brightened by many flowers along the
wayside--and one of those flowers has been our good friendship, yours
and mine. We've been comrades, Nan, which is a far better thing than
most relatives achieve. And if sometimes you feel sad and miss the old
friendship--as I know you will--just remember that I'm only in the next
room. People are apt to make a great to-do about death. But, after
all, it's merely stepping from one of God's rooms into the next.

"I don't want to talk much about money matters, but I must just say
this--that all I have will be yours, just as all my hear