Ruth was crying softly and Miss Ainslie went to her, laying her hand caressingly upon the bowed head. “Don't, deary,” she pleaded, “don't be unhappy. I'm not afraid. I'm just going to sleep, that's all, to wake in immortal dawn. I want you and him to have my things, because I love you--because I've always loved you, and because I will--even afterward.” Ruth choked down her sobs, and Miss Ainslie drew her chair closer, taking the girl's cold hand in hers. That touch, so strong and gentle, that had always brought balm to her troubled spirit, did not fail in its ministry now. “He went away,” said Miss Ainslie, after a long silence, as if in continuation of something she had said before, “and I was afraid. He had made many voyages in safety, each one more successful than the last, and he always brought me beautiful things, but, this time, I knew that it was not right for him to go.” “When he came back, we were to be married.” The firelight shone on the amethyst ring as Miss Ainslie moved it on her finger. “He said that he would have no way of writing this time, but that, if anything happened, I would know. I was to wait--as women have waited since the world began. “Oh, Ruth, do you know what waiting means? Mine has lasted through thirty-three interminable years. Each day, I have said: 'he will come to-morrow.' When the last train came in, I put the light in the window to lead him straight to me. Each day, I have made the house ready for an invited guest and I haven't gone away, even for an hour. I couldn't bear to have him come and find no welcome waiting, and I have always worn the colour he loved. When people have come to see me, I've always been afraid they would stay until he came, except with you--and Carl. I was glad to have you come to stay with me, because, lately, I have thought that it would be more--more delicate than to have him find me alone. I loved you, too, dear,” she added quickly. “I--I asked your aunt to keep the light in the window. I never told her why, but I think she knew, and you must tell her, dear, the next time you see her, that I thank her, and that she need never do it again. I thought, if he should come in a storm, or, perhaps, sail by, on his way to me--” There was another long silence, then, with an effort, she went on. “I have been happy, for he said he wanted me to be, though sometimes it was hard. As nearly as I could, I made my dream real. I have thought, for hours, of the things we would say to each other when the long years were over and we were together again. I have dressed for his eyes alone, and loved him--perhaps you know--” “I know, Miss Ainslie,” said Ruth, softly, her own love surging in her heart, “I know.”