morning when the weather was fine Robin got up early and went out
on the moor to say her prayers and listen to the skylarks singing.

"When I stand and turn my face up to the sky--and watch one going higher
into heaven--and singing all the time without stopping," she said, "I
feel as if the singing were carrying what I want to say with it.
Sometimes he goes so high that you can't see him any more-- He's not
even a little speck in the highest sky-- Then I think perhaps he has
gone in and taken my prayer with him. But he always comes back. And
perhaps if I could understand he could tell me what the answer is."

She ate her breakfast each day and was sweetly faithful to her promise
to Dowie in every detail. Dowie used to think that she was like a child
who wanted very much to learn her lesson well and follow every rule.

"I want to be good, Dowie," she said once. "I should like to be very
good. I am so _grateful_."

Doctor Benton driving up the moor road for his daily visits made careful
observation of every detail of her case and pondered in secret. The
alarming thinness and sharpening of the delicate features was he saw,
actually becoming less marked day by day; the transparent hands were
less transparent; the movements were no longer languid.

"She spends most of the day out of doors when the weather's decent,"
Dowie said. "She eats what I give her. And she sleeps."

Doctor Benton asked many questions and the answers given seemed to
provide him with food for reflection.

"Has she spoken of having had the dream again?" he inquired at last.

"Yes, sir," was Dowie's brief reply.

"Did she say it was the same dream?"

"She told me her husband had come back. She said nothing more."

"Has she told you that more than once?"

"No, sir. Only once so far."

Doctor Benton looked at the sensible face very hard. He hesitated before
he put his next question.

"But you think she has seen him since she spoke to you? You feel that
she might speak of it again--at almost any time?"

"She might, sir, and she might not. It may seem like a sacred thing to
her. And it's no business of mine to ask her about things she'd perhaps
rather not talk about."

"Do you think that she believes that she sees her husband every night?"

"I don't know _what_ I think, sir," said Dowie in honourable distress.

"Well neither do I for that matter," Benton answered brusquely. "Neither
do thousands of other people who want to be honest with th