"It was during his illness," she said, "that I learned to know my husband. I think I had always been a bit selfish. He had seemed so strong that I had heaped my burdens upon him. He wanted me to be happy, so he withheld all cares from me. But the time came when he knew it was not right to withhold such cares. He knew that I was to face separation and loneliness, and so he helped me to get ready. Oh, Betty, dear, I can't tell you how wonderful he was. He knew that death must come to him, and yet he never whimpered. He was a brave soldier going down to battle, and not once did he flinch. But gradually he came to lean on me; once he cried in my arms--not from fear, but because he must leave me. These things are not easy to speak of--but where at first I had merely loved, I came to worship. I saw how he had shielded me, and when he left me I had the precious memory not only of his care for me--but of my care for him--and his appreciation of it." There was a silence in which not only the "white prayers" of Bettina ascended, but the fervent ones of the woman who had suffered and lost. Then came a nurse with the message, "Dr. Blake wishes me to say that all conditions are favorable," and they permitted themselves to hope. Other people were coming now to Harbor Light--great men from the yachts, people from the big hotels, fellow-aviators of Justin's--the townsfolk and sailors--children who had worshiped the flying man of the smiling countenance. But no one was shown into the inner office except Bobbie and Doris and Sara. It was in that first moment of her meeting with Bettina that Sara blotted out the last vestige of smallness and of jealousy. She went straight up to the girl whom Justin loved, and put her arms about her. "Oh, you poor dear thing," and they wept together. Then Bettina asked, "How did you know?" "Everybody knows," Sara said, hysterically. "Did you think you could hide it?" Doris was weeping, too, in Bobbie's arms, and Bobbie's white, set face showed what he was feeling for his friend. "Oh, what made him go out on such a day--of all the crazy things----" "I told him not to," said Captain Stubbs, who had kept hitherto in the background, "but there's no fool like a young fool, and I said it at the time. But it was God's own providence that we were there when he fell. And if any one can fix him up it's Anthony." Bettina heard, and thought of her former fear of this place, which seemed now a sacred house of healing. Was she the same girl who had railed so bitterly against Anthony's profession? She felt that she wanted to tell him how great he was. Why, he was a wonderful man--and he was going to save Justin as he had saved others. Daily he fought battles with death and conquered. He must conquer now! Up-stairs in the operating room was being played a game of skill which had for its pawns human life and human reason.