be angry, Allegro. Do you think He could?"

"Not with you, my darling! Not with you!"

"So you'll let me go," said Violet, with growing earnestness. "You'll
help me to go, Allegro? You will? You will?"

"My darling, I will!" Quick and passionate came the answer. The time had
come.

For a few moments the arms that held her tightened to an almost fierce
embrace; then slowly relaxed.

"Dear heart, I knew you would," said Violet.

She leaned back upon her pillow as Olga gently let her go, and through
the deepening dusk she watched her with eyes of perfect trust.

There followed a pause, the tinkle of glass, the sound of liquid being
poured out. Then Olga was with her again, very still and quiet.

Softly the door opened. "Anything I can do, Miss Olga?" murmured Mrs.
Briggs.

"Nothing, thank you," said Olga.

"That young Dr. Wyndham--'e's just come back," said Mrs. Briggs.

Olga turned for a moment from the bed. The glass was in her hand.

"Go down to him, Mrs. Briggs," she said. "Ask him to wait five minutes."

"Allegro!" There was agonized appeal in the cry.

She turned back instantly. "It's all right, dearest. It's all right.
Mind how you take it! There! Let me! Your hand is trembling."

She leaned over her friend, supporting her, holding the glass to her
lips.

"Drink it slowly!" she whispered to the quivering girl. "You are quite
safe--quite safe."

And Violet drank,--at first feverishly, then more steadily, and at last
she took the glass into her own hand and slowly drained it. Olga waited
beside her, took it quietly from her; set it down.

"Quite comfy, sweetheart?"

"Quite," said Violet. And then, "Come quite close, Allegro dear!"

Olga sat down upon the bed, and took her into her arms, "You don't mind
the dark?" she whispered.

And Violet answered. "No. I've passed it. I'm not afraid of anything
now."

There fell a silence between them. A great, all-enveloping peace had
succeeded the turmoil. Violet's breathing was short but not difficult.
She lay nestled in the sheltering arms like a weary child. And slowly
the seconds slipped away.

There came a faint sound outside the door as of muffled movements, and
Cork, from his post at the foot of the bed, raised his head and deeply
growled.

Sleepily the head on Olga's shoulder stirred. "It doesn't matter now,"
said Violet's voice, speaking softly. "He can never bring me back
again." And then, still more softly, in a kind of breathless ecstasy,