I tried to comfort her, to assure her that it was just the glare on the water, that she would be able to see again in a moment, but I felt the pitiful inadequacy of my empty words, and it seemed that the light had gone out of my life. I pray that I may never again witness such a harrowing sight as that of Myra, leaning her beautiful head on my shoulder, suddenly stricken blind, doing her best to pacify her dog, who was heart-broken in the instinctive knowledge of a new, swift grief which he could not understand. I must ask the reader to spare me from describing in detail the terrible agony of the next few days, when the hideous tragedy of Myra's blindness overcame us all in its naked freshness. I cannot bring myself to speak of it even yet. I would at any time give my life to save Myra's sight, her most priceless possession. I make this as a simple statement of fact, and in no spirit of romantic arrogance, and I think I would rather die than live again the gnawing agony of those days. I took Myra in my arms, and carried her back to the house. Poor child; she realised almost immediately that I was as dumbfounded as she was herself at the terrible blow which had befallen her, and that I had no faith in my empty assurances that it would soon be all right again, and she would be able to see as well as ever in an hour or two, at most. So she at once began to comfort me! I marvelled at her bravery, but she made me more miserable than ever. I felt that she might have a sort of premonition that she would never see again. As we crossed the stream above the fall I saw again the reflected light from Hilderman's window, and a pang shot through me as I remembered her words on that very spot--that she would rather die than be unable to see her beloved mountains. I clutched her in my arms, and held her closer to me in dumb despair. "Am I very heavy, Ron, dear?" she asked presently. "If you give me your hand, dear, I could walk. I think I could even manage without it; but, of course, I should prefer to have your hand at any time." She gave a natural little laugh, which almost deceived me, and again I marvelled at her pluck. I had known Myra since she was four, and I might have expected that she would meet her tragic misfortune with a smile. "You're as light as a feather, dearest," I protested, "and, as far as that goes, I'd rather carry you at any time." "I'm glad you were here when it happened, dear," she whispered. "Tell me, darling, how did it happen?" I asked. "I mean, what did it seem like? Did things gradually grow duller and duller, or what?"