hat she was thinking of at four in the afternoon: how she
could best cultivate her garden.

At five she was lying unconscious in the accident-ward of the New
Hospital: she had been knocked down by a waggon, and terribly injured.

She will not recover, the Doctor said to the nurse. "You see she is
sinking rapidly. Poor little thing!"

At six she regained consciousness, and opened her eyes. The nurse bent
over her. Then she whispered:

"Tell the Disagreeable Man how I wish I could have seen him to-morrow.
We had so much to say to each other. And now . . ."

The brown eyes looked at the nurse so entreatingly. It was a long time
before she could forget the pathos of those brown eyes.

A few minutes later, she made another sign as though she wished to
speak. Nurse Katharine bent nearer. Then she whispered:

"Tell the Disagreeable Man to go back to the mountains, and begin to
build his bridge: it must be strong and . . ."

Bernardine died.

CHAPTER V.

THE BUILDING OF THE BRIDGE.

ROBERT ALLITSEN came to the old book-shop to see Zerviah Holme before
returning to the mountains. He found him reading Gibbon. These two men
had stood by Bernardine's grave.

"I was beginning to know her," the old man said.

"I have always known her," the young man said. "I cannot remember a
time when she has not been part of my life."

"She loved you," Zerviah said. "She was telling me so the very morning
when you came."

Then, with a tenderness which was almost foreign to him, Zerviah told
Robert Allitsen how Bernardine had opened her heart to him. She had
never loved any one before: but she had loved the Disagreeable Man.

"I did not love him because I was sorry for him," she had said. "I
loved him for himself."

Those were her very words.

"Thank you," said the Disagreeable Man. "And God bless you for telling
me."

Then he added:

"There were some few loose sheets of paper on the counter. She had
begun her book. May I have them?"

Zerviah placed them in his hand.

"And this photograph," the old man said kindly. "I will spare it for
you."

The picture of the little thin eager face was folded up with the papers.

The two men parted.

Zerviah Holme went back to his Roman History. The Disagreeable Man went
back to the mountains: to live his life out there, and to build his
bridge, as we all do, whether consciously or unconsciously. If it
breaks down, we build it again.

"We will build it stronger this time,"