and China, and had taken the prescription. But instead
of doing him good, the trip had been his ruin. In China he was attacked
with a malady resembling yellow fever, though more obscure to
scientists. After weeks of desperate illness, the man had gained
strength for the return journey; but, reaching California, he was told
by specialists that he must not hope to recover. After that verdict his
one desire was to spend the last days of his life in England. Not long
before a distant relative had left him a place in Devonshire--an old
house which he had loved in his youth. Now he was on his way there, to
die.

So this was the wonderful wish, I told myself. Yet I couldn't believe it
was all. I felt that there must be something deeper to account for the
burning look in those tortured eyes. And of course I was more than ever
interested, now that his destination proved to be near Courtenaye Abbey.
Ralston Old Manor was not nearly so large nor so important a place
historically as ours, but it was ancient enough, and very charming.
Though we were not more than fifteen miles away, I had never met the old
bachelor, the Mr. Ralston of my day. He was a great recluse, supposed to
have had his heart broken by my beautiful grandmother when they were
both young. It occurred to me that this Ralston Murray must be the old
man's namesake, and the place had been left him on that account.

Now, at last, having explained the man in the cushioned chair, I can
come back to the moment when my wish was granted: the wish that, if not
I, someone else might "brighten" him.

CHAPTER II

MRS. BRANDRETH

You know, when you're on shipboard, how new people appear from day to
day, long after you've seen everyone on the passenger list! It is as if
they had been dropped on deck from stealthy aeroplanes in the dark
watches of the night.

And that was the way in which this girl appeared--this girl who worked
the lightning change in Major Murray. It didn't seem possible that she
could have come on board the ship nearly two days ago, and we not have
heard of her, for she was the prettiest person I'd ever seen in my life.
One would have thought that rumours of her beauty would have spread,
since _someone_ must have seen her, even if she had been shut up in her
cabin.

Heads were turned in her direction as she came walking slowly toward us,
and thanks to this silent sensation--like a breeze rippling a field of
wheat--I saw the tall, slight figure