"Ah, you say that out of your good heart; but I reproach myself very much that I have not been gentler with you--that I have not considered your grief a little more. Now, listen to me. The captain told me in his letter--you remember you read it to me--he told me that on the anniversary of Brian Carlaw's birth there was going to be a great celebration; that the people of the little town were going to put wreaths and flowers at the foot of the statue; that many celebrated people who had known and loved and admired him in life would be there to show their respect for his memory. And that has brought me back to England." 'Linda sat quite still, listening. Before her mental vision passed a picture of a man lying dying at the foot of that statue; a man who had willingly and cheerfully given all he possessed in life for her; a man who had thought that God was good because the woman who had cast him aside kissed his lips at the last. "And so, my dear child," went on the unconscious old woman, "I have made up my mind that we will go down there at the time of this celebration, and you shall take your place as you should by the memorial of the man you loved. That is only fair and just and right; that has brought me back to England. Come, tell me that it will make you happy to go back to the old place again, to feel some pride--as you must feel--in the man whom all others are honouring." "I--I think--I fear the journey would be too much for you," said 'Linda, striving to steady her voice. "Indeed, you must not do this for my sake." "Nonsense!" exclaimed Miss Carlaw. "I've set my heart upon it, and I shall be bitterly disappointed if you don't carry out my wishes. You must be proud of him, and it will take the keenest edge off your sorrow and make you think kindly of him if you go. I am going to have my own way in this, I can assure you. We'll go down together to the grave of the man you love, for I suppose they buried him there?" 'Linda did not answer. A sudden new thought had come into her head--a thought that brought a quick flush to her cheek and filled her eyes with tears. "It shall be as you wish," she said after a pause. The celebration of which the captain had written--the anniversary of Brian Carlaw's birth--was three days later; the two women went down late on the day before, and secured rooms at the inn at which Miss Charlotte Carlaw had previously stopped. Early the following morning, after they had breakfasted, they set out on foot for the place; for Miss Carlaw had said: "We'll have no ostentation about the matter; and we'll get there early, before the other people arrive." Their walk was a short one; the old blind woman, leaning on 'Linda's arm, was led through a gate and then found her feet walking softly on grass; on the sweet summer air the scent of roses was borne pleasantly. "A sweet and pleasant place," she murmured as they walked on.