om Mrs. Goodman that she has
put you in possession of the facts of the case. I have just been
speaking to her. I quite realise that the occurrence of to-day must
have been a very trying one for you, as trying as it was unexpected. I
cannot tell you what my feelings were when I saw you enter that room,
for I didn't know of your existence, much less of your presence in this
house; but the fact remains--Francis Heathcote has mistaken you for the
woman he loved years ago, and for whose coming he has waited so long.

"Undoubtedly the realisation of his hopes has been a great shock to
him, bodily, and mentally also, for the sight of you has had the effect
of dispersing the cloud which has shadowed his brain for so long. He
is now what may be called sane--perfectly sane--although the term is a
misleading one, for he has never been insane, as we understand the
word. His state has been curious. I can only describe it in the words
I used just now. His mind has been shadowed--clouded by one idea, one
obsession. And now, the sight of you, as he sees you, has removed the
cloud; he is satisfied and sane."

"Will he recover?" asked Philippa gently.

"I cannot say. He is very weak. But this I can say--that so surely as
he suffers another disappointment, or as he frets, and is not
satisfied, so surely he will die."

The doctor fixed his eyes upon the girl's upturned face. Intense
anxiety was written clearly upon his features; he tugged at his ragged
beard even more fiercely than before.

"But how is it possible---- How can I----" she faltered, and he
interrupted her vehemently--

"Don't decide--don't decide. Listen, and think of it--the pity of it!
For over twenty years I have been attending Francis Heathcote and seen
him constantly, with never a word of greeting from him, never a sign of
recognition. He is not merely my patient, he is my boyhood's dearest
friend, and since his accident I have watched him closely; at first
with hope, but later--with despair. If you could have known him in
early manhood, and then seen him struck down to the pitiful wreck of
after years, you would appreciate what it has been for those who loved
him--and we all loved him--to stand by and do nothing. He was the most
lovable creature it has ever been my lot to know.

"Miss Harford,"--he dropped into a chair at her side and leaned towards
her,--"to-night, when I went into his room, I thought he was sleeping,
but he opened his eyes and