So much for the past. The present, for a few hours at least, was merciful oblivion. What would the future bring? She had bravely and faithfully put from her all temptation to learn the glory of life, and the completeness of love, from any save from her own husband. And he had failed to teach. Can the deaf teach harmony, or the blind reveal the beauties of blended colour? But the future held no such limitations. The "garden enclosed" was no longer barred against all others by an owner who ignored its fragrance. The gate would be on the latch, though all unconscious until an eager hand pressed it, that its bolts and bars were gone, and it dare swing open wide. "Ah," mused the doctor. "Will the right man pass by? Youth teaches youth; but is there a man amongst us strong enough, and true enough, and pure enough, to teach this woman, nearing thirty, lessons which should have been learned during the golden days of girlhood. Surely somewhere on this earth the One Man walks, and works, and waits, to whom she is to be the One Woman? God send him her way, in the fulness of time." * * * * * And in that very hour--while at last Myra slept, and the doctor watched, and mused, and wondered--in that very hour, under an Eastern sky, a strong man, sick of life, worn and disillusioned, fighting a deadly fever, in the sultry atmosphere of a soldier's tent, cried out in bitterness of soul: "O God, let me die!" Then added the "never-the-less" which always qualifies a brave soul's prayer for immunity from pain: "Unless--unless, O God, there be still some work left on this earth which only I can do." And the doctor had just said: "Send him her way, O God, in the fulness of time." The two prayers reached the Throne of Omniscience together. * * * * * Deryck Brand, looking up, saw the quiet eyes of Margaret O'Mara gazing gratefully at him, across the bed. "Thank you," she whispered. He smiled. "Never to be done lightly, Mrs. O'Mara," he said. "Everything else should be tried first. But there are exceptions to the strictest rules, and it is fatal weakness to hesitate when confronted by the exception. Send for me, when she wakes; and, meanwhile, lie down on that couch yourself and have some sleep. You are worn out." The doctor turned away; but not before he had caught the sudden look of dumb anguish which leaped into those quiet eyes. He reached the door; paused a moment; then came back. "Mrs. O'Mara," he said, with a hand upon her shoulder, "you have a sorrow of your own?" She drew away from him, in terror. "Oh, hush!" she whispered. "Don't ask! Don't unnerve me, sir. Help me to think of her, only." Then, more calmly: "But of course I shall think of none but her, while she needs me. Only--only, sir--as you are so kind--" she drew from her bosom a crumpled telegram, and handed it to the doctor. "Mine came at the same time as hers," she said, simply.