she sobbed. "I have no right to say no."

"Dear, don't cry." The old man's voice was as tender as though she had
been the merest child. "The dream is coming true at last--that you can
walk and I can see. Think what it will mean to us both. And oh, Barbara,
think what it will be to me to see the words your dear mother wrote to
you--to know, from her own hand, that she died loving me."

[Sidenote: Systematic Lying]

Barbara suddenly turned cold. The hand that seemingly had clutched her
heart was tearing unmercifully at the tender fibre now. He would read
her mother's letter and know that his beloved Constance was in love with
another; that she took her own life because she could bear it no more.
He would know that they were poor, that the house was shabby, that the
pearls and laces and tapestries had all been sold. He would know,
inevitably, that Barbara's needle had earned their living for many
years; he would see, in the dining-room, the pitiful subterfuge of the
bit of damask, one knife and fork of solid silver, one fine plate and
cup. Above all, he would know that Barbara herself had systematically
lied to him ever since she could talk at all. And he had a horror of a
lie.

"Don't," she cried, weakly. "Don't go."

"You promised Barbara," he said, gently. Then he added, proudly: "The
Norths never go back on their spoken or written word. It is in the blood
to be true and you have promised. I shall go to-morrow."

Barbara cringed and shrank from him. "Don't, dear," he said. "Your hands
are cold. Let me warm them in mine. I fear that to-day has been too much
for you."

"I think it has," she answered. The words were almost a whisper.

[Sidenote: If the Dream Comes True]

"Then, don't try to talk, Barbara. I will talk to you. I know how you
feel about my going, but it is not necessary, for I do not fear in the
least for myself. I am sure that the dream is coming true, but, if it
should not--why, we can bear it together, dear, as we have borne
everything. The ways of the Everlasting are not our ways, but my faith
is very strong.

[Sidenote: If the Dream Comes True]

"If the dream comes true, as I hope and believe it will, you and I will
go away, dear, and see the world. We shall go to Europe and Egypt and
Japan and India, and to the Southern islands, to Greece and
Constantinople--I have planned it all. Aunt Miriam can stay here, or we
will take her with us, just as you choose. When you can walk, Barbara,
and I