p?"

She stopped a moment, though, to look at the pictures--old Mr. Driver
had bought some good ones--and so gave me one word with Cartmell.

"Depend upon it," he whispered. "Chat's a fool. People who keep telling
you their names ought to be spelt like better names, when they aren't,
are always fools. Why don't they spell 'em that way, or else let it
alone?"

There seemed to be a good deal in that.

Cartmell gone, we went together up the broad staircase which sprang from
the center of the hall. As we passed a chair, she took off her hat and
flung it down. The rich masses old brown hair, coiled about her head,
caught the sun of a bright spring afternoon; she ran swiftly and lightly
up the stairs. "Nice, soft, thick, carpet!" she remarked. I began to
perceive that she would enjoy the incidental luxuries of her new
position--and that she did enjoy the one great luxury--life. I fancied
that she enjoyed it enormously.

We trod another "nice, soft, thick, carpet" for the length of a long
passage and came to his door. I opened it, let her pass in, and was
about to close it after her. But as we reached his room, a sudden shadow
of trouble or of fear had fallen upon her--grief it could hardly be.

"No," she said. "Come in, too. Remember--he's a stranger."

To be in the room with the dead seems to be itself a partaking of death;
it is at least, for a moment, a suspension of life. Yet the still
welcome is not unfriendly.

She walked toward the bed alone, but in an instant beckoned to me to
follow her. She bent down and moved the covering. His broad strong face
looked resolute and brave as ever. It looked--to speak truth--as hard as
ever also.

Her eyes were set on him; suddenly she caught hold of my hand; "Don't
go." I pressed her hand, for I heard her breathing quickly. I just
caught her next words: "He might have given me a chance!"

[Illustration: "_He might have given me a chance!_"]

"I believe he was sorry about that at the end." She shook her head.
"He's given you a big chance now."

She nodded, but absently. "How strange to--to be his doing--and he
there! And then--all this!" She let go my hand, took a step forward,
bent and kissed his brow quickly. "How cold!" she murmured and grasped
my hand tightly again. To my fancy she seemed surprised--and
relieved--that the sleeper did not stir.

We were--as I say--out of the world; we were just two creatures, living
for a little while, by the side of a third who liv