's absence, and meant in the evening
to explain to Brace and Lynda the reason for his journey. He was going
to start South on the morrow, whether a letter came or not. He had
steeled himself for the crucial hour with his friends; had already, in
his imagination, bidden farewell to the relations that had held them
close through the past years. He believed, because he was capable of
paying this heavy price for his love, that no further proof would be
necessary to convince even Lynda of its intensity.

They dined cheerfully and alone and, as they crossed the hall afterward,
to the library, Lynda asked casually:

"Did you get the letters for you, Con? The maid laid them on the stand
by the door."

Then she went on into the bright room with its long, vacant chair,
singing "To-morrow's Song" in that sweet contralto of hers that deserved
better training.

There were three letters--one from a man whose son Truedale had tutored
before he went away, one from the architect of the new hospital, and a
bulky one from Dr. McPherson. Truedale carried them all into the library
where Brace sat comfortably puffing away before the fire; and Lynda,
some designs for interior decoration spread out before her on a low
table, still humming, rocked gently to and fro in a very feminine
rocker. Conning drew up a chair opposite Kendall and tore open the
envelope from his late patron.

"I tell you, Brace," he said, "if any one had told me six weeks ago that
I should ever be indifferent to a possible offer to tutor, I would have
laughed at him. But so it is. I must turn down the sure-paying Mr. Smith
for lack of time."

Lynda laughed merrily. "And six weeks ago if any one had come to me in
my Top Shelf where I carried on my profession, and outlined this for
me"--she waved her hand around the room--"I'd have called the janitor to
put out an unsafe person. Hey-ho!" And then the brown head was bent over
the problem of an order which had come in that day.

"Oh! I say, Lyn!" Truedale turned from his second letter. "Morgan
suggests that _you_ attend to the decorating and furnishing of the
hospital. I told him to choose his man and he prefers you if I have no
objection. Objection? Good Lord, I never thought of you. I somehow
considered such work out of your line, but I'm delighted."

"Splendid!" Lynda looked up, radiant. "How I shall revel in those broad,
clean spaces! How I shall see Uncle William in every room! Thank him,
Con, and tell him I acc