he
ground to break the awful and dazzling loneliness of that great field of
snow. Below me are the grim shafts of the mines, down which the
prisoners here go ironed every day. Away on the horizon westwards is
the black line of pine forests, in whose shadows is night everlasting.
A wolf howls beneath my window every night, and for months I have seen
no colour save in an occasionally lurid sunset with crimson afterglow.
In the daytime I help in the hospital--at night I sit before a wood fire
and look out beyond my whitewashed walls across the mighty forest, back
to London, and then, dear, you may know that it is you of whom I am
thinking.

"Your telegrams reached me together, or I would have stopped you on the
way. I am glad, Douglas, that you know the truth; I am glad that you
have wanted me. Be patient and brave. Life is opening for you through
many avenues. Take what comes to you, and remember that your
development is a holy duty to yourself and your fellows. We are like
two stars, Douglas, who have passed one another in the darkness and
floated away into a great sea of space. The future may be ours again,
but the present is for other things than regrets. There are worlds to
lighten ever, though our shining is a very small thing. Be true to
yourself and to your destiny.

"I want to be honest with you, Douglas. For the first time in my life I
am willingly suffering privations, I am neglecting my own amusement and
happiness for the sake of others. Yet I am not of the stuff whereof
saints and martyrs are fashioned. This life in time would drive me mad.
You would ask me I know--how long? I answer that I stay here so long as
I can bear it and my health serves. It may be for months, perhaps
years. Yet I promise you this, if it is a promise which you care to
have. When it is ended I will send you word.

"Until then, Douglas, if you care to have me sign myself so,

"I am,

"Your faithful friend,

"EMILY DE REUSS."

Douglas drew paper and ink towards him, and wrote back with breathless
haste--

"I will do your bidding, and whether it be for a year or twenty years, I
will wait."

* * * * *

He carried her letter with him to Cicely's wedding, and they all noticed
with pleasure a new buoyancy in his walk and bearing, a keener light in
his eyes, and the old true ring in his voice. There was never a shadow
of envy in his heart as he watched Drexley's happiness. Joan and he saw
them off at