"I don't know--I'm expecting him any time," she answered eagerly, and Mr. Barbour, standing near and in plain sight, turned about sadly and walked away. His child no longer knew him. Upon this situation, he brooded in silence. He felt himself an interloper upon the hospitality of a man he did not know. But Villard, farseeing and well disposed, invited him to stay on and gave him courage to do so. "My home is your home," said he. "Some day she will come into complete recollection--and then, if my hopes are fulfilled, we shall become man and wife." "God speed the day!" exclaimed Alexander Barbour fervently. "Everything is being done for her. You have placed us under great obligations." But Villard would not have it that way. "The good fortune is all mine," said he, emphatically--"and I have reason to believe that she will become my wife, even if I am some years her senior. There are forces beyond the skies that are working out my salvation, and that of your daughter. I won't go into the matter further than to say that I am sure the fates are on our side. When all is settled, you, who are creeping on in age, may call my home your own. You may come and go at will--no one will oppose your coming or your going. You will be a unit unto yourself." Villard was never cheerful when showered with thanks. When the older man tried to express his gratitude the master of Dreamy Hollow simply smiled and waved his hand. A few minutes later he stood on the sands of his private beach and watched the waves as they swirled and pounded on the shore line. His thoughts, however, were far away, but the very faith he put behind them turned them into messages to his dead. But he anticipated no word in reply. His own reasoning counseled him that the _new_ Winifred had released the _old_ from further strenuous effort in his behalf. "It is myself incarnate, you will marry"--she had told him. Then--"You will meet her soon." And it had all come about just as _she_ said, and now she could rest forevermore in peace--the darling of his early love! Her effort at self-effacement, were it possible to erase herself from his memory, had been sublime, but to her reincarnated soul he would hinge his destiny through the instrumentality of Winifred Barbour. She had now become the Winifred of his earlier devotion, and he would lavish his love as a true man should--but there would be no relaxation of his loyalty to the memory of the dear one gone before. "I shall always revere your memory," he had whispered hoarsely. "The new Winifred will never attempt to obscure your likeness from my heart. Together you will entwine my soul and become as one great love. Farewell beloved. Go to thy rest!" As Villard spoke he bared his head and stood quite still. Then, as he walked his way back he quickened his pace, but halted abruptly as Alexander Barbour came running toward him. "She's all right again--her mind has been suddenly restored!" he shouted.