at down beside her with pencil and paper.

"Address it to Mr. West," said Cynthia, her eyes following his fingers.
"Yes. And now put just this: 'I am sick, and wanting you. Will you
come?--Cynthia.' And write the address. Do you think he'll come, Jack?"

"Let me add 'Urgent,'" he said.

"No, Jack. You are not to. Add nothing. If he doesn't come for that, he
will never come at all. And I sha'n't wait for him," she added under her
breath.

She seemed impatient for him to depart and despatch the message, but
when he took his leave her eyes followed him with a wistful gratitude
that sent a thrill to his heart. She had taken him at his word, and had
made him her friend in need.

X

"If he doesn't come for that, he will never come at all."

Over and over Cynthia whispered the words to herself as she lay, with
her wide, shining eyes upon the door, waiting. She was a gambler who had
staked all on the final throw, and she was watching, weak and ill as she
was after long suffering, watching restlessly, persistently, for the
result of that last great venture. Surely he would come--surely--surely!

Once she spoke imperiously to the nurse.

"If a gentleman named West calls, I must see him at once, whatever the
hour."

The nurse raised no obstacle. Perhaps she realised that it would do more
harm than good to thwart her patient's caprice.

And so hour after hour Cynthia lay waiting for the answer to her
message, and hour followed hour in slow, uneventful procession, bringing
her neither comfort nor repose.

At length the doctor came and offered her morphia, but she refused it,
with feverish emphasis.

"No, no, no! I don't want to sleep. I am expecting a friend."

"Won't it do in the morning?" he said persuasively.

Her grey eyes flashed eager inquiry up at him.

"He is here?"

The doctor nodded.

"He has been here some time, but I hoped you would settle down. I want
you to sleep."

Sleep! Cynthia almost laughed. How inexplicably foolish were even the
cleverest of men!

"I will see him now," she said. "And, please, alone," as the doctor made
a sign to the nurse.

He moved away reluctantly, and again she almost laughed at his
imbecility.

But a minute later she had forgotten everything in the world save that
upon which her eyes rested--a short, broad-shouldered man, clean-shaven,
with piercing blue eyes that looked straight at her with
something--something in their expression that made the heart wit