the longing ache of lonely years. If you need it, do not
thrust it from you."

"Write me one word by your own hand: 'Forgiven.' It is all I ask. When
it reaches me, I will come to you at once. Do not dictate a letter to
your secretary. I could not bear it. Just write--if you can truly write
it--'FORGIVEN'; and send it to 'Your Wife.'"

The room was very still, as Nurse Rosemary finished reading; and,
laying down the letter, silently waited. She wondered for a moment
whether she could get herself a glass of water, without disturbing him;
but decided to do without it.

At last Garth lifted his head.

"She has asked me to do a thing impossible," he said; and a slow smile
illumined his drawn face.

Jane clasped her hands upon her breast.

"CAN you not write 'forgiven'?" asked Nurse Rosemary, brokenly.

"No," said Garth. "I cannot. Little girl, give me a sheet of paper, and
a pencil."

Nurse Rosemary placed them close to his hand.

Garth took up the pencil. He groped for the paper; felt the edges with
his left hand; found the centre with his fingers; and, in large firm
letters, wrote one word.

"Is that legible?" he asked, passing it across to Nurse Rosemary.

"Quite legible," she said; for she answered before it was blotted by
her tears.

Instead of "forgiven," Garth had written: "LOVED."

"Can you post it at once?" Garth asked, in a low, eager voice. "And she
will come--oh, my God, she will come! If we catch to-night's mail, she
may be here the day after to-morrow!"

Nurse Rosemary took up the letter; and, by an almost superhuman effort,
spoke steadily.

"Mr. Dalmain," she said; "there is a postscript to this letter. It
says: 'Write to The Palace Hotel, Aberdeen.'"

Garth sprang up, his whole face and figure alive with excitement.

"In Aberdeen?" he cried. "Jane, in Aberdeen! Oh, my God! If she gets
this paper to-morrow morning, she may be here any time in the day.
Jane! Jane! Dear little Rosemary, do you hear? Jane will come
to-morrow! Didn't I tell you something was going to happen? You and
Simpson were too British to understand; but Margery knew; and the woods
told us it was Joy coming through Pain. Could that be posted at once,
Miss Gray?"

The May-Day mood was upon him again. His face shone. His figure was
electric with expectation. Nurse Rosemary sat at the table watching
him; her chin in her hands. A tender smile dawned on her lips, out of
keeping with her supposed face and figure; so full wa