"What she saw it is unnecessary to tell you. I called up before her mind pictures of what her future life would probably be, as she sank lower and yet lower on the downward path. She stood there motionless with horror as the pictures changed from bad to worse, till at last she saw the well-nigh unrecognizable image of herself as she lay in one of the hospital wards: then with a shriek of fear she turned, looked at me for one moment with terror-stricken eyes, and fled from the room. "I sent for a trained nurse, and, with her assistance, watched over Vancome till he recovered. Before many days his dislike wore off, and in the depth of his misery and loneliness, he turned to me as a friend, the only one now left to him. When he had sufficiently recovered, I persuaded him to go abroad and travel. "I saw him off. When we parted he said to me--’I am very sorry to lose you, and still more sorry for the way in which from the first I have acted. It is no use going into the matter. You are a strange being, Sydney; it is hard to know what to make of you. I used to think you were the devil, and now am half inclined to fancy you are an angel. But angel or devil, you are certainly not a man, for no man would have done all you have for nothing. You never make use of an opportunity even if it is thrown in your way. Now why did you not let me die? You could then have married Vera, and, as the books put it, lived happy ever after.’ "’I will tell you why,’ I said. ’There is no such thing as the happiness you speak of. You have tried to find it in one way; others try to find it by other means, but they all fail. No one who seeks for happiness ever gains it. It is the same with all. One man seeks fame; for years he struggles through pain and weariness, till at last, maybe, it comes, and he finds the desired angel but a poor, thin, unsatisfactory phantom, pointing with one finger at death; and he laughs that he could have wasted his youth and health in search of such a miserable, mocking spectre. The idea that wealth gives happiness is about the most comical delusion that man suffers from. There is one plane of enjoyment which is determined by the man himself; one delusion that this plane can be altered by climbing the treadmill of prosperity. A man puts his foot on the step, and immediately descends to the same position; and many continue to climb after happiness in this foolish manner all their lives. Unknowingly they may perhaps turn the mill of invention and progress, and this is most likely the object of the delusion. No, Vancome,’ I concluded, for the boat was starting, ’try a new way, and you shall yet turn cursing to blessing. Good-bye.’