All the misery was back upon him in fullest strength; all the old unsatisfied longings, the dreams he had dreamed, the hopes he had cherished, had swept down upon him like a flood with the touch of her hand, the glance of her eyes. It had not seemed so bitter a thing when he had merely to think of her, to picture her in this situation or in that in a wholly intangible form; to see her face to face was a different matter, needing a stronger courage. He asked himself, again and again, that question which is inevitable in some men's lives: why Fate had given him so much, and yet stripped away from him that which was worth more than all he had received. Yet, through it all, she stood out as some one far above him; some one he had loved, in a foolish, vain fashion, in some far-off time, without any hope that she could love him in return. Whichever way his thoughts turned and returned, and swept hither and thither, there was not anywhere any blame for her. He could not sleep that night; he paced his room hour after hour, turning old forgotten things over in his mind--things which would have been so much better left alone. He was roused after a little time by a light tap at the door, and Miss Charlotte Carlaw came in, a strange-looking figure, with a dressing-gown wrapped about her and a shawl thrown over her head. He stood still, and she came slowly across to him and fumbled for his hands and took them. "My boy, my boy," she said, "what has happened? what is wrong?" He did not answer; he drew her arm through his, and they began to walk up and down the room together, she with one hand gently touching his arm as if to soothe him. "Dreams, dreams, dreams!" he broke out at last. "Oh! if a man might sleep soundly and forget everything that's gone, forget words that were uttered, and the clasp of hands that have touched his, and--and other things besides!" "I know, I know," she whispered. "But there's something, God or devil, I don't know which it is, that won't let us forget anything. The best and the worst of us, boy, have had to go through it, and I think we come in time to find that we're glad we can't forget, however bitter the remembrance may have been at first. The years soften things, dear, and show them in a better and a kindlier light, and we learn our difficult lesson with many tears and much smudging of the slate of life; but we learn it all the same, and we grow to laugh at the end, when the lessons are put away and the long day is finished. You haven't learned that yet, Comethup, and you don't think now you can; but you will, Heaven knows you will--Have you seen her again?" "To-night," he muttered. "Well, you talked with her, I suppose?" "Yes. Oh, forgive me; it didn't seem to matter so much before, but now----" "Is she happy?" asked the old woman. "Yes, she seems very happy."