he got up and
walked about, pausing at one of the long French windows to gaze out
into the dusky labyrinth of a garden, where he could just make out paths
winding about among the bushes. The night was mild, and the window stood
ajar as if some one had lately come in.

Then he turned and saw her. She had almost reached him, but he had not
heard her, her footfall upon the old Turkey carpet with its faded roses
and lilies had been so light. She was in white, and the light from the
old lamp shone on her arms end face and brought out the shadows of her
hair and eyes. She put out both hands--then quickly drew back one as her
glance fell upon the sling, and gave him her left, smiling. But he drew
the arm that had been broken out of its support and held it out.

"Please take this hand, too," he said. "It will be its first experience
and, perhaps, it will put new life into it. It's pretty limp yet."

She laid hers in it very gently, looking down at it as his fingers
closed slowly over hers.

"That's doing very well, I should think," she said. "It's barely time
for it to be independent yet, is it?"

"About time. I had something of a wrestle with Doctor Buller to get him
to leave the splints off. How warm and soft your hand is. This one of
mine has forgotten how the touch of another hand feels."

"I'm sure you ought not to use it yet. Please put it back in the sling."
She drew her own hand gently away.

It occurred to him that while he had been absent from her he had not
been able to recall half her charm, and that if he had he would never
have been able to wait half so long before pursuing her down into this
Southern haunt of hers. He drew a full, contented breath.

"At last," he said, "I am face to face with you. It's worth the
journey."

In the lamplight it seemed to him the rose cast a reflection on her face
which he had not observed at first.

"I'm so sorry Aunt Lucy isn't able to see you tonight," she
said--"unless she would consent go see you professionally. She really
ought--"

He held up his hand "Not unless she is in serious straits, please," he
begged. "I've fled from patients, only to find them all the way down
on the train. I don't know what there can be about me to suggest to a
conductor that I'm the man he's looking for to attend some emergency
case, but he seems to spot me. Only at the station before this did I get
released from the last of the series. Let me forget my profession for a
bit if I can, j