If the year just passed had brought no change to the family at the farm, it had certainly left its imprint on Lester Conway. He looked far more contented than he had in the past, and there was a certain buoyant expression on his face that betokened peace of mind and possible hope. He had waited patiently throughout the year, saying nothing to either Jim or Norine of his hopes for the future. He loved her far too well to obtrude his love on her. He had never even spoken of it, and yet he felt very hopeful. She had been taken from him once, he thought, but there could be no danger of losing her again. Surely she would come to value his great love in time, and then would come the payment for his years of waiting and longing. The recompense would surely come. And was it not worth the waiting? Ay, even though he had to wait his seven years, as Jacob did, he was content if only the recompense came at last. He was preparing for a visit to the farm now, and had already secreted certain toys in his overcoat pocket, when the door of his office was pushed open without the usual formality of a knock, and he was confronted by a strange old lady. She was a tall, thin woman, dressed entirely in black, without one speck of color from her chin to her feet to mar the awful sombreness of her attire. She wore a heavy fur-lined circular that reached nearly to the ground. And even Conway could see that, for all her plainness, his visitor was very expensively dressed. Not that he noticed it then, for all his attention was fixed on the woman’s face--a face so strange in its expression that it looked unlike a face belonging to this world. She had high cheek bones, pale, colorless eyes that were perpetually fixed upon vacancy, and a mouth so wide and thin-lipped that the face looked--with the yellow skin stretched tightly over it--not unlike a skeleton face, or very much like the face of one long dead. There was only one emotion expressed by this face. That was determination inflexible and persistent. Conway bowed his professional bow, and handed a chair, but for a moment he was speechless. “You are Doctor Conway?” his visitor said in a strangely hollow tone. The doctor bowed again. “I believe you are acquainted with a family named Darling,” said his visitor. It was not a question, although she stared fixedly at him while waiting his reply. It was an assertion, and left no possible doubt as to her knowledge of the acquaintanceship. Conway looked puzzled, and was about to return a negative reply, when the old lady continued in the same hollow, monotonous tones: “I refer to James and Norine Darling.” “Oh, the Brights?” said Conway, blushing a little. “Yes, I believe--that is, I know them very well;” and he blushed again, vividly for a man. Some wise man has said that a blush on a man’s face is proof positive of truth and honor, and I am inclined to believe him, for very few men blush nowadays--successfully.