urned from her, and, bringing her a glass of water in which he
had put a few drops from a vial, said in his old tone:

"Drink this, Rachel."

She obeyed in silence; her eyes drooped; the tension of her whole figure
relaxed; and, with a long sigh, she exclaimed:

"Oh, forgive me!"

"There is nothing to forgive, my child," said the doctor, much moved,
and, longing to throw his arms around her as she sat there, so gentle,
appealing, beautiful, loving. "Why can I not love her?" "What else is
there better in life for me to do?" he thought, but his heart refused.
Hetty, the lost dead Hetty, stood as much between him and all other
women to-day, as she had stood ten years before.

"I must go now, Rachel," he said. "Good-by."

She put her cold hand in his. As he took it, by a curious freak of his
brain, there flashed into his mind the memory of the day when, by the
side of this fragile white little hand lying in his, Hetty, laughingly,
had placed her own, broad and firm and brown. The thought of that hand
of Hetty's, and her laugh at that moment, were too much for him, and he
dropped Rachel's hand abruptly, and moved toward the door. She gave a
low cry: he turned back; she took a step towards him.

"I shall never see you again," she said, taking his hand in hers. "I
owe my life to you," and she carried his hand to her lips, and kissed
it again and again. "God bless you, child! Good-by! good-by!" he said.
Rachel did not speak, and he left her standing there, gazing after him
with a look on her face which haunted him as long as he lived.

Why Doctor Eben should have resolved to sail for England in a Canadian
steamer, and why, having reached Canada, he should have resolved to
postpone his voyage, and make a trial of the famous springs of St.
Mary's, are mysteries hid in that book of Fate whose leaves no mortal
may turn. We prate in our shallow wisdom about causes, but the most that
we can trace is a short line of incidental occasions. A pamphlet which
Doctor Eben found in the office of a hotel was apparently the reason of
his going to St. Mary's; all the reason so far as he knew, or as any man
might know. But that man is to be pitied who lives his life out under
the impression that it is within his own guidance. Only one remove from
the life of the leaf which the winds toss where they list would be such
a life as that.

It was with no very keen interest that Doctor Eben arrived in St.
Mary's. He had some faint hope that t