stopped speaking at last. It was useless to continue to argue with
a person who could not apparently be moved by anything he said.

The doctor stepped forward. "Miss Harford," he said abruptly, "you
have heard Major Heathcote's side of the question; you already know the
other. As I told you before, we are in your hands. What are you going
to do?" Strive as he would he could not keep the note of anxiety out
of his voice.

Philippa's next words were a surprise to both men, but the doctor was
the first to understand her intention, and his face brightened visibly.

She turned to the Major. "How long is it since you have
seen--Francis?" she asked him.

"I----" he replied, rather taken aback, "I think it must be about a
fortnight."

"Will you go and see him now--and then when you have spoken to him,
will you come back to me here?"

"Certainly, if you wish it," he replied wonderingly.

The doctor led the way and the Major followed him, and they walked
up-stairs without speaking.

Philippa moved to the window, and stood there looking out, her hands
lightly clasped in front of her--motionless, her eyes gazing across the
sunlit park.

And so she waited, until after the lapse of about ten minutes the two
men returned.

As they entered the room she stepped quickly forward, and before either
of them could speak she said--

"Before you say anything, I want to tell you that I have quite decided.
Thank you," she made a gesture to the Major, "for all you said. I know
you mean to be kind, in telling me of the difficulties, but I have
quite decided. If it is a mistake--well, I am content to abide by it;
but as it seems possible for me to bring a little happiness to Francis,
I am going to do it."

This time it was the Major who did not answer. He was standing by the
fireplace with his eyes on the hearthstone, and his face was working
under the stress of some emotion. In his hand he held a small bunch of
violets.

"God bless you," said the doctor softly. Then with a quick change of
tone he added, "We'll save him yet. Please God we'll save him yet."

Then he drew Philippa to one side, and began to give her some
instructions, and some professional details as to the condition of his
patient, to which the girl listened attentively.

"At five o'clock this evening I'll come and take you to him," he said
presently. "I can only allow you to stay a few moments, and I need
hardly impress on you the strict necessity th