rd lot, that of waiting at any time, but the waiting of the
newly blind--there is no human misery to equal it. It seemed at times
to her she must go mad.

She recognized the footfall of Doctor Barnes when one morning she heard
it on the gallery floor inside the slamming screen door. "Come in,"
she said, meeting him. "What is it?"

He entered without any speech, cast himself into a chair. She knew he
was looking at her steadfastly.

"Well," said she, feeling herself color slightly. Still he did not
answer. She shifted uneasily.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, just a trace of the personal in her
tone.

"Eavesdropping again. Staring. This is the day when I say good-by to
you. I've come to say my good-by now."

"Why should it be like that?" she asked after a time.

"Will you be happy?"

She did not answer, and he leaned forward as he spoke.

"You left a happy world behind you. Do you want to see this world now,
this sordid, bloody, torn and worn old world, so full of everything but
joy and justice? Do you want to see it any more? Why?"

"It is my right to see the world," said Mary Gage simply. "I want to
see life. There's not much risk left for me. But you talk as though
things were final."

"I'm going away. Let's not talk at all."

For a long time she sat silent.

"Don't you think that in time we forget things?"

"I suppose in ten years I will forget things--in part."

"Nonsense! In five years--two--you'll be married."

"So you think that of me?" said he after a time. "Fine!"

"But you have always told me that life is life, you know."

"Yes, sometimes I have tried my hand at scientific reasoning. But when
I say ten years for forgetting anything, that's pathological diagnosis,
and not personal. I try to reason that time will cure any inorganic
disease just as time cures the sting of death. Otherwise the world
could not carry its grief and do its work. The world is sick, near to
death. It must have time. So must I. I can't stay here and work any
more. If you can see--if you get well and normal again--I'll be here."

She looked at him steadily. He wanted to take her face between his
hands.

"Oh, I'll not leave here until everything is right with your case.
There's good excuse for me to go out. It will be for you the same as
though we had never met at all."

"That's fine of you! So you believe that of me?"

"Why not? I must. You're married. That's outside my prov