wooden
spoon, set it on the hob ten minutes to settle; the grounds will all go
to the bottom, though you might not think it; and you pour it
out--fragrant, strong, and clear. But the secret is, fresh, fresh,
fresh, and don't stint your coffee."

Old Margery paused before a door at the end of the passage, knocked
lightly; then looked up at the doctor with her hand on the door-handle,
and an expression of pleading earnestness in her faithful Scotch eyes.

"And you will not forget the wooden spoon, Sir Deryck?"

The doctor looked down into the kind old face raised to his in the dim
light. "I will not forget the wooden spoon, Mistress Margery," he said,
gravely. And old Margery, turning the handle whispered mysteriously
into the half-opened doorway: "It will be Sir Deryck, Miss Gray," and
ushered the doctor into a cosy little sitting-room.

A bright fire burned in the grate. In a high-backed arm-chair in front
of it sat Jane, with her feet on the fender. He could only see the top
of her head, and her long grey knees; but both were unmistakably Jane's:

"Oh, Dicky!" she said, and a great thankfulness was in her voice, "is
it you? Oh, come in, Boy, and shut the door. Are we alone? Come round
here quick and shake hands, or I shall be plunging about trying to find
you."

In a moment the doctor had reached the hearth-rug, dropped on one knee
in front of the large chair, and took the vaguely groping hands held
out to him.

"Jeanette?" he said. "Jeanette!" And then surprise and emotion silenced
him.

Jane's eyes were securely bandaged. A black silk scarf, folded in four
thicknesses, was firmly tied at the back of her smooth coils of hair.
There was a pathetic helplessness about her large capable figure,
sitting alone, in this bright little sitting-room, doing nothing.

"Jeanette!" said the doctor, for the third time. "And you call this
week-ending?"

"Dear," said Jane, "I have gone into Sightless Land for my week-end.
Oh, Deryck, I had to do it. The only way really to help him is to know
exactly what it means, in all the small, trying details. I never had
much imagination, and I have exhausted what little I had. And he never
complains, or explains how things come hardest. So the only way to find
out is to have forty-eight hours of it one's self. Old Margery and
Simpson quite enter into it, and are helping me splendidly. Simpson
keeps the coast clear if we want to come down or go out; because with
two blind people abou