amazement, for she had her hat in her lap and could have worn it.

The wind blew wisps of her fine straight hair across her pink cheeks and in her eyes, as she gazed out upon the blue mountains and listened to Sally’s tale of “How hit all come about.” For Sally went back into the family history of the Teasleys, and the Caswells, and the Merlins, and the Farwells, until Betty forgot the flight of time and the bishop called her. Then she went in to see David.

He had worked his right hand free from its bandages and was able to lift it a little. She took it in hers, and looked brightly down at him.

“Why, Doctor Thryng, you look better than when you were in Farington! Doesn’t he, James? Aunt Sally gave me to understand you were nearly dead.”