For two or three days after the momentous interview Anthony said very little. When he had again seen Lady Touchstone, and the two--blind leading the blind--had satisfactorily fixed the very date of his collapse, George Alison was sent for. Carefully schooled, the latter spent a fruitful five minutes by the sick man's side. Upon the third day came Valerie.... The girl was exalted. Gratitude had set the crown upon the glory of her array. No one had ever seen her look so beautiful. Out of the furnace the fine gold had come refined, dazzling. My gross pen cannot picture her. The dark lustre of her hair, the exquisite curve of her lips, her pride of carriage, were things for sonnets. Her small firm hands, the white column of her neck, the colour springing in her cheeks, made three sweet wonders. The style of her was superb. Tall, straight, clean-limbed, her figure remembered graces of a younger age. The simple flowered-silk dress looked as though all who put it on must go in elegance. Silk and satin covered her precious feet. A nosegay of violets, brooched to her gown, echoed the hue, but not the magic of her eyes. Had the poor flowers been blowing still upon their mother bank, all wet with dew, and had a star stooped to prove how sweet they smelled, then, sirs, they should have rendered more faithfully my lady's eyes. Anthony had wondered when she would come.... A breath of perfume, a swift whisper, the rustle of silk--and there was Valerie by his side. "Oh, Valerie!" Miss French fell upon her knees. Very gently Lyveden put her hand to his lips. Then he turned away his head and began to cry. With a bursting heart, Valerie almost gathered him in her arms. "D'you love me, Anthony?" By way of answer he just clung to her. At length-- "I'm--I'm sorry, my sweet.... It's--I think it's just because ... I love you so much." With an effort he mastered his lips. "And I'm so very sorry, dear, I kissed you like that--the day I went down. I dreamed about it. I dreamed you came to me, and I apologized." With her heart in her mouth, Valerie smoothed his brow. "And you were--so very sweet. You said"--he hesitated--"you spoke so very handsomely." "I'm so glad, darling." "And, oh, Valerie,"--he was himself again now--"I've had such a wonderful dream. I've been waiting for you, my darling, before I spoke of it." "What did you dream, lad?" "I dreamed that I'd left the Bumbles--I had given notice, you know--and gone, in answer to an advertisement, to a place in the Cotswolds. It's all so real, so vivid, that it's almost impossible to appreciate that it's all a dream. I can remember every detail of the journey--I had Patch with me--down to the faces of my fellow-passengers. A woman with a baby got out at Oxford and left a parcel behind. And I ran after her with it. I can see her scared face now, poor soul, when I touched her on the shoulder...."