Neale's sweetheart... He believes her dead...
You hide her--bring Neale to her."

Quickly she replied, "I promise you, Ancliffe, I promise... How
strange--what you tell!... But not strange for Benton!... Ancliffe!
Speak to me!--Oh, he is going!"

With her first words a subtle change passed over Ancliffe. It was the
release of his will. His whole body sank. Under the intense whiteness
of his face a cold gray shade began to creep. His last conscious instant
spent itself in the strange gaze Allie had felt before, and now she
had a vague perception that in some way it expressed a blessing and a
deliverance. The instant the beautiful light turned inward, as if to
illumine the darkness of his soul, she divined what he had once been,
his ruin, his secret and eternal remorse--and the chance to die that had
made him great.

So, forgetful of the other beside her, Allie Lee watched Ancliffe,
sustained by a nameless spirit, feeling with tragic pity her duty as a
woman--to pray for him, to stay beside him, that he might not be alone
when he died.

And while she watched, with the fading of that singular radiance, there
returned to his face a slow, careless weariness.

"He's gone!" murmured Stanton, rising. A dignity had come to her. "Dead!
And we knew nothing of him--not his real name--nor his place ... But
even Benton could not keep him from dying like an English gentleman."

She took Allie by the hand, led her out of the parlor and across the
hall into a bedroom. Then she faced Allie, wonderingly, with all a
woman's sympathy, and something else that Allie sensed as a sweet and
poignant wistfulness.

"Are you--Neale's sweetheart?" she asked, very low.

"Oh--please--find him--for me!" sobbed Allie.

The tenderness in this woman's voice and look and touch was what Allie
needed more than anything, and it made her a trembling child. How
strangely, hesitatingly, with closing eyes, this woman reached to fold
her in gentle arms. What a tumult Allie felt throbbing in the full
breast where she laid her head.

"Allie Lee!... and he thinks you dead," she murmured, brokenly. "I will
bring him--to you."

When she released Allie years and shadows no longer showed in her face.
Her eyes were tear-wet and darkening; her lips were tremulous. At that
moment there was something beautiful and terrible about her.

But Allie could not understand.

"You stay here," she said. "Be very quiet... I will bring Neale."

Opening the door, she pa