"Iris," asked Lynn, "will you go out with me this afternoon? You haven't been for a long time." "I don't think so," she replied, dully. "It is kind of you, but I'm not very strong just now." "We'll walk slowly," Lynn assured her, "and it will do you good. Won't you come, just to please me?" His voice was very tender, and Iris sighed. "I'll see," she said, resignedly; "I don't care what I do." "At three, then," said Lynn. "I'll get through practising by that time and I'll be waiting for you." At the appointed time they started, and Margaret waved her hand at them as they went down the path. Iris was so thin and fragile that it seemed as if any passing wind might blow her away. Lynn was very careful and considerate. "Where do you want to go?" he asked. "I don't care; I don't want to climb, though. Let's keep on level ground." "Very well, but where? Which way?" Iris felt the stiff corner of the letter hidden in her gown. "Let's go up the river," she said. "I've never been there and I'd like to go." So they followed the course of the stream, and the fresh air brought a faint colour into her cheeks. As the giant of old gained strength from his mother earth, Iris revived in the sunshine. The long period of inactivity demanded exertion to balance it. "It is lovely," she said. "It seems good to be moving around again." "I'll take you every day," returned Lynn, "if you'll only come. I want to see you happy again." "I shall never be as happy as I was," she sighed. "No one is the same after a sorrow like mine." "I suppose not," answered Lynn. "We are always changing. No one can go back of to-day and be the same as he was yesterday. I often think that old Greek philosopher was right when he said that the one thing common to all life was change." "Which one was he?" "Heraclitus, I think. Anyhow, he was a clever old duck." Iris smiled. "I have sometimes thought ducks were philosophers," she said, "but it never occurred to me that philosophers were ducks." Lynn laughed heartily, thoroughly pleased with himself because Iris seemed so much better. "We don't want to go too far," he said. "I wouldn't tire you for anything. Shall we go back?" "No--not yet. Isn't there a marsh up here somewhere?" "I should think there would be." "Then let's keep on and see if we don't find it. I feel as though I were exploring a new country. It's strange that I've never been here before, isn't it?" "It's because I wasn't here to take you, but you'll always have me now. You and I and mother are all going to live together. Won't that be nice?" "Yes," answered Iris, but her voice sounded far away and her eyes filled. Late afternoon flooded the earth with gold, and from distant fields came the drowsy hum and whir of the fairy folk with melodious wings. The birds sang cheerily, butterflies floated in the fragrant air, and it was difficult to believe that in all the world there was such a thing as Death.