"Ah that is part of the finding. You are a great big stupid wise man Dr. Jim, and I love you for your folly. But some day you will be happy. You do not understand what I mean at present. Don't try to understand. It will come upon you unexpectedly. And now," she held out her hand like a queen, "we are friends; we are brother and sister." "Brother, and sister Ida," said Jim kissing that white hand. This time he did not feel the slightest thrill. "You are right," he cried rather vexed. "I do not know what love is." "But you will some day, and soon. I see it coming." Thus spoke Ida, and refused to explain herself further. But Jim understood her--dimly. CHAPTER XII SECOND-SIGHT Herrick was much happier now that his relations with Ida were properly adjusted. He recognised how true was her woman's instinct which had gone at once to the root of the matter. He had never truly loved her, as a woman demands to be loved. The very fact that he had been blind to her feeling for Stephen showed that what he had mistaken for true passion--if it could be so called--was wholly false. He had been attracted by her beauty, by her kindly spirit, by that sympathy which every genuine woman can give to a man whom she finds pleasant company; but of the sacred feeling, which is named love, yet which has no name, he had not felt one thrill. With feminine cleverness she had taken his gimcrack passion in the right way, and had shown him in the kindest of words, how poor a thing it really was. There was no ill feeling in his heart now that he had lost her. He could regard her as a dear friend, and even be glad that she should marry Stephen. So far Herrick was quite content. Yet there was a vague yearning in his breast for companionship, and sympathy. Certainly he had both from Stephen; but Stephen was a man, and could not be to him what a woman could be. Herrick had lived a life, so active and full of interest that he had never found time to think of love or of womankind. Now that there was--so to speak a pause in his life--the vacuum thus created required to be filled up in some way. For man, was woman created, and Jim was simply yearning (although in his materialistic blindness he did not know it) for the other part of himself. Ida had hinted that what he wanted would come to him; yet so blind was Jim, that he could not see the advancing vision. He looked to all four points of the horizon, and saw--nothing. It was a wonder to him in after years that it had been so with him. But it was but that dense gloom which heralds the dawn. And the glory of day was at hand.