at his wife's white face and had thought that
she was dead, had shaken his whole nature to its very depths. He made a
discovery then that nothing in all the world was of any real value to
him compared with Hilda's love.

"I have acted like a brute to her," he murmured. "Rivers was right.
She's too good for me--she's fifty times too good for me. My God, how
white she looks as she lies there! Suppose the doctor is wrong. Why
doesn't she speak or move? Why do they make so little of this continued
unconsciousness? I think I'll go for some further advice. Oh, my
darling, my darling, if you are dead, if your sweet life has been taken,
I shall never forgive myself--never!"

But just then there was a faint stir of the heavily fringed lids which
lay against Hilda's white cheeks. The next moment the sweet brown eyes
were opened wide, and Hilda looked into her husband's face.

"What has happened?" she asked drowsily. "I don't remember anything.
Where are we?"

"Together, Hilda," he replied; "together. Does anything else really
matter?"

"Oh, no, no!" she said, with a catch in her voice.

* * * * *

Next day Mrs. Quentyns was so far convalescent as to be able to return
to the little house in Philippa Terrace. Jasper, of course, accompanied
her. They had found a good deal to say to each other, between the moment
when she had opened her eyes the night before and now. Both had some
things to confess--both had some words of forgiveness to crave from the
other. So complete now had been the interchange of soul and of love
between this pair that it seemed impossible that anything could ever
separate such warm hearts again.

"And it has been all Judy's doing," said Jasper as they sat that
evening in the little drawing room.

"What do you mean?" asked his wife.

"Why," he answered, "if Judy had not brought matters to a crisis by
going away, we might have drifted further and further apart. But now we
must have her back again, Hilda. She has fulfilled her mission, dear
little soul, and now she must have her reward."

"No," said Hilda, in a firm voice. "Judy shall have her reward, but not
by coming back. She did right to go. I could never, never have sent her
away, but she did right to go."

"Do you mean to tell me, Hilda, that you could be perfectly happy to
live without her?"

"With you," she said, laying her hand on his arm, and looking into his
face with her sweet eyes shining through tears.