t has done no harm! But it was lucky that I mistrusted your
patience and put the time for the experiment a week later than I thought
necessary . . . What is it?' He turned from one to the other
questioningly; there was a look on Harold's face that he did not quite
comprehend.

'H-s-h,' said the latter warningly, 'I'll tell you all about it . . .
some time!'

The awkward pause was broken by Pearl, who came to the Doctor and said:

'I must kiss you, you know. It was you who saved The Man's eyes. Stephen
has told me how you watched him!' The Doctor was somewhat taken aback;
as yet he was ignorant of Pearl's existence. However, he raised the
child in his arms and kissed her, saying:

'Thank you, my dear! I did all I could. But he helped much himself;
except at the very last. Don't you ever go and take off bandages, if you
should ever have the misfortune to have them on, without the doctor's
permission!' Pearl nodded her head wisely and then wriggled out of his
arms and came again to Harold, looking up at him protectingly and saying
in an old-fashioned way:

'How are you feeling now? None the worse, I hope, _Harold_!'

The Man lifted her up and kissed her again. When he set her down she
came over to Lady de Lannoy and held up her arms to be lifted:

'And I must kiss you again too, Stephen!' If Lady de Lannoy hadn't loved
the sweet little thing already she would have loved her for that!

The door was opened, and the butler announced:

'Luncheon is served, your Ladyship.'

* * * * *

After a few days Harold went over to Varilands to stay for a while with
the Stonehouses. Mr. Stonehouse had arrived, and both men were rejoiced
to meet again. The elder never betrayed by word or sign that he
recognised the identity of the other person of the drama of whom he had
told him and who had come so accidentally into his life; and the younger
was grateful to him for it. Harold went almost every day to Lannoy, and
sometimes the Stonehouses went with him; at other times Stephen paid
flying visits to Varilands. She did not make any effort to detain
Harold; she would not for worlds have made a sign which might influence
him. She was full now of that diffidence which every woman has who
loves. She felt that she must wait; must wait even if the waiting lasted
to her grave. She felt, as every woman does who really loves, that she
had found her Master.

And Harold, to whom something of the same diffidence was an o