this time. From the worst effects of his accident he can never
recover. As far as I can judge from present symptoms, he will never
walk a step again--never. But he may live for years. He may even
recover so as to be able to attend to business again--in a way."

Allison had not a word with which to answer him. The doctor went on.

"I might have kept this from you for a while, but I have this reason for
speaking now. I do not ask if you have `counted the cost.' I know you
have not. You cannot do it. You have nothing to go upon which might
enable you to do so. Nothing which you have ever seen or experienced in
life, could make you know, or help you to imagine, what your life would
be--and might be for years,--spent with this man as his nurse, or his
servant--for it would come to that. Not a woman in a thousand could
bear it,--unless she loved him. And even so, it would be a slow
martyrdom."

Allison sat silent, with her face turned away.

"What I have to say to you is this," went on the doctor. "Since it is
impossible--if it is impossible, that such a sacrifice should be
required at your hands, it will not be wise for you to bide here longer,
or to let him get used to you, and depend upon you, so that he would
greatly miss you. If you are to go, then the sooner the better."

Allison said nothing, but by her changing colour, and by the look in her
eyes, the doctor knew that she was considering her answer, and he waited
patiently.

"No," said Allison, "I do not love him, but I have great pity for him--
and--I am not afraid of him any more. I think I wish to do God's will.
If you do not say otherwise, I would wish to bide a while yet,--till--it
is made plain to me what I ought to do. For I was to blame as well as
he. I should have stood fast against him. I hope--I believe, that I
wish to do right now, and the right way is seldom the easy way."

"That is true. But many a sacrifice which good women make for men who
are not worthy of it, is made in vain. I do not like to think of what
you may have to suffer, or that such a man should have, as it were, your
life at his disposal. As for you, you might leave all this care and
trouble behind you, and begin a new life in a new land."

"That was what I meant to do. But if the Lord had meant that for me,
why should He have let me be brought here, knowing not what might be
before me?"

"I doubt I am not quite free from responsibility in the matter, but I