nothing had she been born to the note
of joy. Through all her life, so troubled, so thinly spread with
pleasures, she had clung to her inheritance. Often had her mind
questioned her heart: "What is there in this empty day? Why do you
laugh? Why do you sing?" And ever her heart had answered, "I laugh and
sing because, if not to-day, then to-morrow, the full day cometh."

But to-night her inheritance seemed a little and a cruel thing.
Wide-eyed she prayed for the tears that would not come. Dry were her
eyes, dry was her throat, and dry the pressing weight upon her heart.
Hours passed, and then she put forth her strength. She slipped from the
bed and walked with groping hands toward the open window. In the
semi-darkness she moved like a tall, pale light. Down her back and
across her bosom her hair fell like a caressing shadow. Her white feet
made no sound.

She reached the window and knelt, her arms folded upon the low sill. She
tossed the hair from before her face and looked out upon the still
night. How far were the stars to-night--as cold and far as on that night
of long ago when she had stood on the top of the highest hill and called
to the desert for Lew!

She stayed at the window for a long time, and found meager comfort at
last in the thought that Lewis could not have guessed. How could he have
guessed what she herself had not known? She arose and went back to bed.
Then she lay thinking and planning a course that should keep not only
Lewis but also Mrs. Leighton and mammy blind to the wound she bore. And
while she was in the midst of planning, sleep came and made good its
ancient right to lock hands with tired youth.

Leighton was crestfallen to see in what high spirits Lew had come back
from his first day with Natalie. He lost faith at once in H lne's cure.
Then, as they went to bed, he clutched at a straw.

"Lew," he asked, "did you tell your pal everything?"

"Everything I could think of in the time," said Lewis, smiling. "One day
isn't much when you've got half of two lives to go over. Of course there
were things we forgot. We'll have them to tell to-morrow."

"Was Folly one of the things you forgot?"

"No," answered Lewis and paused, a puzzled look on his brow. He was
wondering why he had remembered Folly. To-night she seemed very far
away. Then he threw back his head and looked at his father. "Why did you
ask that?"

Leighton did not answer for a moment. Finally he said:

"Because it's the one thi