condemned her to unhappiness.

Scarcely a day passed but Joan drove over to Little Langbourne. Philip
Slotman came to look for her, and counted it a long unhappy day if she
failed him; but it was not often.

She had discovered that he was well-nigh penniless, and that it would be
months before he would be fit to work again. And so she had quietly
supplied all his needs.

"When you are well and strong again, you shall go back. You shall have
the capital you want, and you will do well. I know that. I shall lend
you the money to start afresh, and you will pay me back when you can."

"Joan, I wonder if there are many women like you?"

"Many better than I," she said--"many happier."

At Buddesby she was welcomed by a radiant girl with happy eyes, a girl
who could not make enough of her, and there Joan saw a home life and
happiness she had never known--a happiness that set her hungry heart
yearning and longing with a longing that was intolerable and unbearable.

"Send for me, and I will come," he had written; and she had not sent.
She would not, pride forbade it, and yet--yet to be happy as Ellice was
happy, to feel his arms about her, to rest her head against his breast,
to know that during all the years to come he would be here by her side,
that loneliness would never touch her again.

"I won't!" she said. "I won't! If he needs me, it is he who must come to
me. I will not send for him."

It was her pride's last fight, a fine fight it made. For days she
struggled against the yearning of her heart, against the wealth of love,
pent-up and stored within; valiantly and bravely pride fought.

To-day she had been to the hospital. She had stopped, as she often did,
at Buddesby. There was talk of a marriage there. Many catalogues and
price-lists had come through the post, and Con and Ellice were busy with
them. For they were not very rich, and money must be made to go a long
way; and into their conclave they drew Joan, who for a time forgot
everything in this new interest.

They had all been very busy when the door had opened and Johnny Everard
had come in, and, looking up, Joan caught a look that passed between
Johnny and Ellice--just a look, yet it spoke volumes. It laid bare the
secret of both hearts.

Later, when she said good-bye, he walked to the gate where her car was
waiting. They had said but little, for Johnny seemed shy and
constrained in her presence.

"Joan, I have much to be very, very grateful to you fo