mes and talks to me sometimes," went on David. "She says that
if you had been their own brother you could not have done more; she is
so grateful to you, Herrick." Perhaps he would have said more, but
Malcolm checked him.

"Never mind that, Carlyon; it was a great pleasure to me to do it. Now
let us talk of something more interesting." And then for a short time
they talked of Oxford and the boat-race; and then of Ventnor, which
Malcolm knew well--he had even spent an evening at Red Brae when the
Godfreys were staying there. "The house is charming," he said quite
enthusiastically; "I know the rooms you will have, Carlyon, and they
are delightful."

David did not respond, and he was evidently getting tired, so Malcolm
rose to take his leave.

"I wish--I wish I could do something for you too," he said with such
sincerity that David was quite touched.

"I have had my good things," he returned in a low voice, "and now I
must dree my weird. Don't worry, Herrick--things generally come right
in the long run, but we must not try to act Providence too much.
Good-bye--God bless you." The thin hand wrung Malcolm's with surprising
force; but Malcolm's eyes were a little misty as he went out of the
room, for he knew--he knew too well--that in this life he should never
see David Carlyon's face again!

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE PARTING OF THE WAYS

Shall I forget on this side of the grave?
I promise nothing: you must wait and see,
Patient and brave.
(O my soul, watch with him and he with me!)

Shall I forget in peace of Paradise?
I promise nothing: follow, friend, and see,
Faithful and wise.
(O my soul, lead the way he walks with me!)
--CHRISTINA ROSSETTI.

A few days after the invalid had safely reached Ventnor, Dinah wrote
one of her pleasant, chatty letters to Malcolm. She told him that David
had borne the long journey fairly well, and that he and Mr. Carlyon
were charmed with Red Brae. "I wish Cedric could have stayed longer,"
she finished. "He has been such a dear good boy; but I am afraid he is
still very unhappy. Elizabeth heard from Mrs. Godfrey yesterday. Leah
has been ill with influenza, but Mrs. Richardson has nursed her like a
mother. Leah seems devoted to her already. The poor girl told Mrs.
Godfrey that she had never had such a kind friend in her life."

As the weeks went on, Dinah wrote still more cheerily. "The improvement
in