inted in
Niagara, and talk about it, should no longer be allowed to crawl on the
face of the earth. And how about the 'Little Mother'? Isn't she worth
knowing? I hope she sent me her love. And New York harbour! Did you
ever see anything to equal it, as you steam away in the sunset?"

Jane gave a sudden sob; then turned to him, dry-eyed.

"Is there no hope, Deryck?"

The doctor laid his hand on hers. "He will always be blind, dear. But
life holds other things beside sight. We must never say: 'No hope.'"

"Will he live?"

"There is no reason he should not live. But how far life will be worth
living, largely depends upon what can be done for him, poor chap,
during the next few months. He is more shattered mentally than
physically."

Jane pulled off her gloves, swallowed suddenly, then gripped the
doctor's knee. "Deryck--I love him."

The doctor remained silent for a few moments, as if pondering this
tremendous fact. Then he lifted the fine, capable hand resting upon his
knee and kissed it with a beautiful reverence,--a gesture expressing
the homage of the man to the brave truthfulness of the woman.

"In that case, dear," he said, "the future holds in store so great a
good for Garth Dalmain that I think he may dispense with sight.--
Meanwhile you have much to say to me, and it is, of course, your right
to hear every detail of his case that I can give. And here we are at
Wimpole Street. Now come into my consulting-room. Stoddart has orders
that we are on no account to be disturbed."

CHAPTER XV

THE CONSULTATION

The doctor's room was very quiet. Jane leaned back in his dark green
leather arm-chair, her feet on a footstool, her hands gripping the arms
on either side.

The doctor sat at his table, in the round pivot-chair he always
used,--a chair which enabled him to swing round suddenly and face a
patient, or to turn away very quietly and bend over his table.

Just now he was not looking at Jane. He had been giving her a detailed
account of his visit to Castle Gleneesh, which he had left only on the
previous evening. He had spent five hours with Garth. It seemed kindest
to tell her all; but he was looking straight before him as he talked,
because he knew that at last the tears were running unchecked down
Jane's cheeks, and he wished her to think he did not notice them.

"You understand, dear," he was saying, "the actual wounds are going on
well. Strangely enough, though the retina of each eye was pi