of a very
perfect kind for TWO. I realised that there might be circumstances in
which the dark would become a very wonderful meeting-place for souls.
If I loved a man who lost his sight, I should be glad to have mine in
order to be eyes for him when eyes were needed; just as, were I rich
and he poor, I should value my money simply as a thing which might be
useful to him. But I know the daylight would often be a trial to me,
because it would be something he could not share; and when evening
came, I should long to say: 'Let us put out the lights and shut away
the moonlight and sit together in the sweet soft darkness, which is
more uniting than the light.'"

While Jane was speaking, Garth paled as he listened, and his face grew
strangely set. Then, as if under a reaction of feeling, a boyish flush
spread to the very roots of his hair. He visibly shrank from the voice
which was saying these things to him. He fumbled with his right hand
for the orange cord which would guide him to his chair.

"Nurse Rosemary," he said, and at the tone of his voice Jane's
outstretched arms dropped to her sides; "it is kind of you to tell me
all these beautiful thoughts which came to you in the darkness. But I
hope the man who is happy enough to possess your love, or who is going
to be fortunate enough to win it, will neither be so unhappy nor so
unfortunate as to lose his sight. It will be better for him to live
with you in the light, than to be called upon to prove the kind way in
which you would be willing to adapt yourself to his darkness. How about
opening our letters?" He slipped his hand along the orange cord and
walked over to his chair.

Then, with a sense of unutterable dismay, Jane saw what she had done.
She had completely forgotten Nurse Rosemary, using her only as a means
of awakening in Garth an understanding of how much her--Jane's--love
might mean to him in his blindness. She had forgotten that, to Garth,
Nurse Rosemary's was the only personality which counted in this
conversation; she, who had just given him such a proof of her interest
and devotion. And--O poor dear Garth! O bold, brazen Nurse
Rosemary!--he very naturally concluded she was making love to him. Jane
felt herself between Scylla and Charybdis, and she took a very prompt
and characteristic plunge.

She came across to her place on the other side of the small table and
sat down. "I believe it was the thought of him made me realise this,"
she said; "but just no