some kind of woman, who will undertake
the duty. If you do, I have ordered the guard to let her into the house
on presentation of this note."

My wife and I were sitting in the study when the letter was handed to
me. "I will run down to Mrs. Barrie's," I said, after long thinking.
"She is not so much of a nurse, but she is less of a coward; and I know
she has taken care of diphtheria."

"I will walk down with you," said my wife; "perhaps a woman's influence
won't be amiss on such an errand."

We were soon ready and went out into the winter night.

"Isn't that too bad?" I suddenly exclaimed, as we were turning into Mrs.
Barrie's house. "I have forgotten that letter--and the health officer
says that whoever goes must have it. Shall we go back for it?"

"Not at all, she would have retired before we get back. And in any case
she would not go till the morning, and you can give it to her before
that," said my long tried adviser.

"Very well, let us go in."

We had left Margaret at home. She was often absent from our study fire,
not in peevishness, or gloom, for they were foreign to her nature; but
still she bore evidence of her great renunciation.

As I have said, she was much alone, deeming it, I doubt not, due to her
lover that she should share his solitude, even if separately borne. She
sought to fill up that which was behind of the sufferings of the man she
loved. This I make no doubt was her secret delight; for only a woman
knows the process of that joy which is exhaled when sorrow and love flow
mingled down.

Margaret had not been beside our study fire that winter night. But on
our departure she came down from her half widowed room to sit beside
it. It was the same hearth she had kindled in other days "in expectation
of a guest." As she entered the room, her eye fell upon the note which I
had left lying in my chair. A glance at it revealed to her Angus' name.
It was soon perused and it needed to be read but once. Swift action
followed, for there is no such thinker as the heart; and if women were
on the Bench to-morrow, "Judgment reserved" would vanish from our
judicial records.

Margaret's decision was taken before she laid the letter down, and a
flush of eager joy glowed on her face. In a moment she was back in her
room, quickly moving here and there, gathering this and that together,
bending over a small travelling-bag that lay upon the bed. Her ruling
thought was one of gladness, even joy--and the travell