As she drove up to the doorway, two night nurses flitted through the corridor, ghost-like in their white uniforms. Then came Anthony. His face looked worn and worried. "We couldn't save her, Diana," he said, tensely. "Oh, the poor little thing!" "We made a fight for it. I sent for you because if she roused I wanted you to be there." "If you had telephoned sooner." "I could not. The change was very sudden." He flung himself into a chair. "Oh, what is all my skill worth, Diana, when I couldn't save that child?" She had seen him in such moods before, when he had felt powerless against all the opposing forces of disease and death. But she did not care that others should see him. It was enough that she should know that this great doctor Anthony had his weaknesses. The rest of the world should not know it. "Come out into the garden," she coaxed; "the air will do you good." As they walked up and down the garden paths he gave her more definite details. "She did not know that she was going. There was no reason to trouble her gentle soul with fears. And so, at last, when she drifted off into the silence, she was smiling." "And I am sure that she was still smiling when on the other side she found Love waiting." "How wonderfully you put it, Di." "It is not because I put it that way; it is because it is wonderful. Do you know, Anthony, that has always been my idea of heaven--as a place where Infinite Love waits. If that little child had lived she would have faced a future of loneliness--now she will never be lonely--never sick--never unhappy." "But she wanted to live." "But she didn't know life, Anthony--as some of us know it, as a place of unfulfilled dreams----" They had reached the beach, and the track of the moon spread out before them, ending only at the horizon. "She followed the path o' the moon," said Diana, softly, "a little white soul in a silver boat. Death is a great adventure, Anthony." "Sometimes I feel as if I were merely a longshoreman, who helps to load the boats as they start on that great adventure----" "What do you mean?" "Oh, we doctors see so much of pain which we cannot ease, so much misery which we cannot prevent. We see the innocent suffering for the guilty--the weak bearing the burdens which belong to the strong--and even if we try our hardest we can't change these things--and the boats still go sailing out to the Unknown----" "Anthony, I wish I might be sure of one thing----" "What, dear girl----?"