"Jack," he went on, turning impulsively, "I am a blunt man, plain and not farseeing in things like all of these, that have come to me so swift and fast. I don’t mean these accidents—I’m used to them—life and the whole little game of it is all a blind chance. I have taken mine all my life—and—and—well, they’ve always been against me, Jack—always, even now. I’ve lost—always—even as I shall lose now—Elsie. The great hand of Fate that flings the dice for us has always thrown them loaded for me—Jack." He was silent. I thought of God and the Butterfly. I pitied him, seeing nothing as he did. "No, I am not farseeing—not farseeing—in things like the other side of all this—not the blind chance side which has always been mine—but the side you make yourself, someway, somehow, like this." He drew a blurred and crumpled note from his pocket. It was Eloise’s. I had seen it last when, holding it to my breast, I had fallen asleep that afternoon under the trees. "This kind of a little thing, Jack," he said, handing me the little relic. "I am a blundering fool—and I have to tell you so—to tell you what an unseeing fool I have been. I see it all now—and yet I’d never have seen. I found this clutched in Elsie’s hand. This was her shock—this was my folly—my unseeing folly. No, no," he cried quickly, seeing I was about to say something. "No, no, Jack, I see it all—don’t say a word. You’ve been a man all through it—a white man, Jack. I am not talking to put you on trial. I’m passing judgment on myself for your sake, my boy; that you may understand what a selfish, unseeing fool I have been. "Well, it’s down to this—it’s all past—let it go," he added. "But Elsie—she is of the living present. You must help me, help me a little yet awhile Jack—till—till the crisis is past." I pressed his hand silently. "Thank you," he said simply, "and now just a word of explanation. This trouble of hers runs in the blood of the Carfaxes. My grandmother, my own sister, went this way. They are keyed high, and if a shock like this comes, it’s death or an unbalancing. When she read that," he said, "which unseeing one that I have been, was all my fault, when she read it, Jack, she lost her reason, she was temporarily insane when she made that leap. She is conscious now and stronger; but still she remembers nothing up to that mental shock, the shock of that note, that showed her all, and—oh well, I’m only a blunt kind of a man—I can’t tell it—you alone could do that. But it’s this now, Jack, you go in and talk to her. You stay with her—till we get her right—and we’ve a chance to yet—Jack, until we get her right—just let her believe—believe— Oh, you know, Jack!" The tears were in his eyes as he led me into Elsie’s room. Tammas and Marget were by the bed. Elsie lay amid her pillows, a strange startled look in her eyes.