It was unavoidable that she should recall her last interview with him, and that the image of his noble, spiritual face should be ever distinct in her mind. And there was even a certain comfort in this recollection. Father Damon had indeed striven, under the counsel of his own courage and of Brother Monies, to conquer himself on the field of his temptation. But with his frail physique it was asking too much. This at last was so evident that the good brother advised him, and the advice was in the nature of a command in his order, to retire for a while, and then take up his work in a fresh field. When this was determined on, his desire was nearly irresistible to see Ruth Leigh; he thought it would be cowardly to disappear and not say good-by. Indeed, it was necessary to see her and explain the stoppage of help from the Margaret Fund. The check that he had drawn, which was returned, had been for one of Dr. Leigh's cases. With his failure to elicit any response from Mrs. Henderson, the hope, raised by the newspaper comments on the unexecuted will, that the fund would be renewed was dissipated. In the interview which Father Damon sought with Dr. Leigh at the Women's Hospital all this was explained, and ways and means were discussed for help elsewhere. “I wanted to talk this over with you,” said Father Damon, “because I am going away to take a rest.” “You need it, Father Damon,” was Ruth's answer, in a professional manner. “And--and,” he continued, with some hesitation, “probably I shall not return to this mission.” “Perhaps that will be best,” she said, simply, but looking up at him now, with a face full of tender sympathy. “I am sure of it,” he replied, turning away from her gaze. “The fact is, doctor, I am a little hipped--overworked, and all that. I shall pull myself together with a little rest. But I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your work, and--and what a comfort you have been to me in my poor labors. I used to hope that some time you would see this world in relation to the other, and--” “Yes, I know,” she interrupted, hastily, “I cannot think as you do, but--” And she could not go on for a great lump in her throat. Involuntarily she rose from her seat. The interview was too trying. Father Damon rose also. There was a moment's painful silence as they looked in each other's faces. Neither could trust the voice for speech. He took her hand and pressed it, and said “God bless you!” and went out, closing the door softly. A moment after he opened it again and stood on the threshold. She was in her chair, her head bowed upon her arms on the table. As he spoke she looked up, and she never forgot the expression of his face.