"I know I was. I often wake now at night and turn and find the place by my side empty, and I can hardly keep from calling her aloud. It wrenches me, but before long I think she's no such great distance away, since we're both on the same earth together, and by and by she'll be here at my side; and so it becomes easy to me once more." Richling, in the self-occupation of a lover, forgot what pains he might be inflicting. But the Doctor did not wince. "Yes," said the physician, "of course you wouldn't want the separation to be painless; and it promises a reward, you know." "Ah!" exclaimed Richling, with an exultant smile and motion of the head, and then dropped his eyes in meditation. The Doctor looked at him steadily. "Richling, you've gathered some terribly hard experiences. But hard experiences are often the foundation-stones of a successful life. You can make them all profitable. You can make them draw you along, so to speak. But you must hold them well in hand, as you would a dangerous team, you know,--coolly and alertly, firmly and patiently,--and never let the reins slack till you've driven through the last gate." Richling replied, with a pleasant nod, "I believe I shall do it. Did you notice what I wrote you in my letter? I have got the notion strongly that the troubles we have gone through--Mary and I--were only our necessary preparation--not so necessary for her as for me"-- "No," said Dr. Sevier, and Richling continued, with a smile:-- "To fit us for a long and useful life, and especially a life that will be full of kind and valuable services to the poor. If that isn't what they were sent for"--he dropped into a tone of reflection--"then I don't understand them." "And suppose you don't understand," said the Doctor, with his cold, grim look. "Oh!" rejoined Richling, in amiable protest; "but a man would like to understand." "Like to--yes," replied the Doctor; "but be careful. The spirit that _must_ understand is the spirit that can't trust." He paused. Presently he said, "Richling!" Richling answered by an inquiring glance. "Take better care of your health," said the physician. Richling smiled--a young man's answer--and rose to say good-night. CHAPTER XXXV. TO SIGH, YET FEEL NO PAIN. Mrs. Riley missed the Richlings, she said, more than tongue could tell. She had easily rented the rooms they left vacant; that was not the trouble. The new tenant was a sallow, gaunt, wind-dried seamstress of sixty, who paid her rent punctually, but who was-- "Mighty poor comp'ny to thim as's been used to the upper tin, Mr. Ristofalo."