ght to wait for you."

"I wish I hadn't waited," said Bettina, as Justin helped her in. "I--I
don't like sick people, and I hate that queer smell----"

"Ether," said Justin, promptly; "it's because of the operation."

He leaned forward, and the car shot out toward the causeway. The way led
first through a street overarched with elms; beyond the elms there was a
vista of sea and sky. A fragrant wind blew from the blossoming trees,
and swept Bettina's veil away from her face so that it billowed above
her hat like the wings of some great bird.

The hospital was behind; ahead was the long white road. Justin was
smiling down into her eyes. For the first time she noticed his look of
joyous youth.

"I begin to understand why it is that you fly," she said, as they came
out upon the causeway and saw the stretch of harbor beyond.

"Why?"

"Because you feel that you must get up high enough to flap your wings."

"I could do that on a barn-yard fence, couldn't I--like Chantecler, and
make the sun rise?"

"You could never get up early enough."

"I flew past your window at six."

"How did you know it was my window?"

Justin glanced down at her. Her soft white hat was pulled low, so that
it almost hid her eyes, but through the veil he could see that they were
softly shining. Her lips were red, and her cheeks touched by the wind
with vivid color.

"I knew--because my heart told me," he said, ardently.

But she did not blush. "You knew it because you know which is Diana's
guest room," she stated.

"Were you awake?"

"No. I am never awake at six--I love to be lazy."

"Don't tell that to Dr. Anthony or he'll set you to weaving. You know
what I told you; he said that idleness leads to weakness or
wickedness----"

"I haven't had time to see what it leads to," Bettina informed him.
"I've always been so busy. I'm going to play for a while."

"Will you play with me?" Justin challenged her.

Shining eyes met shining eyes--youth responded to youth.

"It will be glorious," said Bettina, meeting his mood.

They laughed together, the care-free laughter of their golden age.
Diana, catching the echo of it, waked from a reverie which had to do
with Anthony back there in a big, bare room, contending with skilful and
steady hands against the evil forces which sought to destroy; saving a
life, giving to a little unknown girl a future of hope and of health.

Every breath that she had drawn since she had left him had been a pray