," he answered slowly. "It would
have been better to die--to go to her--than live to know that all one's
joy was false, and all one's hopes a delusion. They are all gone,
Isabella--Phil, mother, Jim--all gone; and only you and I are left, and
we--are old, Isabella--you and I."

"Not old," she replied, with a touch of her whimsical humour, "not old;
but getting on that way, Francis."

A little wintry smile flickered for an instant across his wan face.
"You have not changed--your voice is just the same. Oh, how it makes
me remember! We were good comrades, Isabella, you and I."

"We were, and are still," she answered huskily, "and shall be to the
end."

He nodded. "To the end."

Hand in hand they sat as the daylight faded in the quiet room,
seemingly oblivious of the presence of the watcher, who stood
immovable, as if turned to stone, beside the door. Now and again
Francis would ask a question and Isabella would answer, but for the
most part they were silent. Words were of no avail to help him--they
could not reconstruct his shattered world or bring back those he had
loved and lost. And it was too soon for her to urge him to take
courage, or to tell him that perhaps his happiness of the last few
weeks might prove to have been something more than a dream.

When at last she rose to leave him he said slowly, "I cannot understand
it yet--I must have time--but it comforts me to know that while so much
is lost, you are still here, and you are still the same."

She fought back the tears that were blinding her. "I am always the
same--remember that--and I am here when you want me. Good-night, dear
Francis."

"Good-night, dear friend."

CHAPTER XXIII

CONTENT

"The dead are glad in heaven, the living 'tis who weep."--K. Y. HINKSON.

Philippa followed Isabella down-stairs like one walking in her sleep,
without feeling, without consciousness, save of a dreadful numbness
which seemed to envelop her, body and heart alike.

She walked to the door and opened it, and then she became aware that
her companion was speaking. The words came as if from a great distance
through a mighty void.

"He will need you," Isabella was saying through her tears. "Go back to
him. He must not feel he is alone. See if your love can help him----"
Then her sobs choked her, and she walked quickly away into the
gathering darkness.

The girl returned to the hall and stood in front of the hearth. She
wanted to think and