uldn't see any farther than that! Yet that
night--I don't expect now, what I did then; I've lost my chance for it.
But I would like to do something for Allan Gerard before I die. I'd like
to make all my pearls into one, and put it into his vase. Instead, he is
doing things for me."

Her clasping arms tightened about him. Heretofore she always had turned
a steady face to her brother, sparing him the reproach of grief, but
now she helplessly felt her eyes fill and overflow. One comfort, one
hope she had that he did not share. If he went with Allan Gerard, and if
Gerard took home the wife he had seemed to woo, brother and sister would
not be separated. Flavia Gerard would be in Allan Gerard's house, where
Corrie was going.

Had Gerard thought of that, also? Dared she tread on this nebulous
fairy-ground? Dared she lead Corrie to set foot there, with her?

"Dear," she essayed, her voice just audible, "dear, has Mr. Gerard ever
spoken to you of me?"

Surprised, Corrie looked down at the bent head resting against his rough
overcoat. Himself a lover, he yet had not suspected this other romance
flowering beside his own; he did not guess the obvious secret, now.

"Of you? Oh, yes; he asks if you are well, each day. He never forgets
such things. Why?"

She had no answer to that natural question. In spite of her reason,
Flavia was chilled by the flat conventionality of Gerard's apparent
attitude, as represented by those formal inquiries. Almost she would
have preferred that he had not spoken of her at all; silence could not
have implied indifference.

"Nothing," she faltered. It clearly was impossible to speak as she had
imagined. "Only, as his hostess, and your sister, I fancied that he
might----"

"He wouldn't say that sort of thing to me, Other Fellow. No doubt he
will come to pay a farewell call before he leaves. He isn't very fit,
you know; he hasn't been out yet. He _must_ be at his western factory
this week, he said, or he wouldn't try to travel."

Her color rushed back. Why had she not remembered that? Why should he
speak of her to anyone, since to-morrow he would come to see her?
To-morrow? The clocks had struck midnight, to-day they would see each
other.

"It is late," Corrie added, as if in answer to her thought. He sighed
wearily. "You are tired, I suppose we both are. Come up."

He passed his arm about her waist, and they went up the stairs together,
leaning on one another. But Allan Gerard was a third pr