na. It was
altogether possible that something, might be done. Ralph was modest,
but new discoveries were constantly being made, and he knew that his
own knowledge was more abreast of the times than his father's could be.
At any rate, he was not so easily satisfied.

He was trying faithfully to forget Araminta, but was not succeeding.
The sweet, childish face haunted him as constantly as the veiled
phantom haunted his father, but in a different way. Through his own
unhappiness, he came into kinship with all the misery of the world. He
longed to uplift, to help, to heal.

He decided to try once more to talk with Miss Evelina, to ask her,
point blank, if need be, to let him see her face. He knew that his
father lacked sympathy, and he was sure that when Miss Evelina once
thoroughly understood him, she would be willing to let him help her.

On the way uphill, he considered how he should approach the subject.
He had already planned to make an ostensible errand of the book he had
loaned Araminta. Perhaps Miss Evelina had read it, or would like to,
and he could begin, in that way, to talk to her.

When he reached the gate, the house seemed deserted, though the front
door was ajar. It was a warm, sweet afternoon in early Summer, and the
world was very still, except for the winged folk of wood and field.

He tapped gently at the door, but there was no answer. He went around
to the back door, but it was closed, and there was no sign that the
place was occupied, except quantities of white chiffon hung upon the
line. Being a man, Ralph did not perceive that Miss Evelina had washed
every veil she possessed.

He went back to the front of the house again and found that the door
was still ajar. She might have gone away, though it seemed unlikely,
or it was not impossible that she might have been taken suddenly ill
and was unable to come to the door.

Ralph went in, softly, as he had often done before. Miss Evelina had
frequently left the door open for him at the hour he was expected to
visit his patient.

He paused a moment in the hall, but heard no sound save slow, deep
breathing. He turned into the parlour, but stopped on the threshold as
if he had been suddenly changed to stone.

Upon the couch lay Miss Evelina, asleep, and unveiled. Her face was
turned toward him--a face of such surpassing beauty that he gasped in
astonishment. He had never seen such wondrous perfection of line and
feature, nor such a crown