"Yes, Donald," said Mary, looking at him with concern in her beautiful eyes. "Doctor Witherspoon was almost ready to let me go, at last. Oh, my dear, if I had known it would be so long I never would have done what I did--have left you in suspense all these weeks. I would have told you everything, and taken the risk.... But the very last thing I found--it was in the _Planet_, just a few days before I went away--an article which gave a full description of a wonderful cure made by Doctor Witherspoon. It took only three days, and was absolutely successful.... From previous accounts in the medical journals, I knew that the operation was considered dangerous--but I pinned my faith to the last thing I'd learned--and hoped. "I'd made up my mind to take the risk, anyway. I had my plans all laid, and that Saturday morning I drew enough money to see me through.... My only question was whether or not to tell you.... And then, that last night--that last night, dear, my courage failed utterly. When you spoke of 'my sister Anne' with such confidence in me in your dear voice--oh, Donald, every time you mentioned her, I felt--I can't tell you how beneath contempt I felt.... To deceive you! Oh, Donald----" "Don't--don't think of it, dearest," he said, gently. "I understand, I understand." "Oh, you're wonderful, wonderful," she said, with tears in her eyes. "But it would all have been different if I had realized. Mine was a bad case, Donald; the position and size of the mark, and my nervous exhaustion, they all told against me, and after the very first treatment I collapsed utterly. I knew nothing for days and days.... They kept me under anæsthetics and the treatment went on.... When I came fully to myself, it was so near the end, I was so close to achieving my heart's desire, that I made up my mind to wait--just a little while, dear--to regain my strength, and then come back and tell you--everything.... Oh, Donald," she paused, and looked deep into his eyes, "I wonder if you can realize, quite, what the whole thing meant to me. I knew you loved me, but I also knew how you shrank from anything ugly, abnormal. I had good reason to know.... And the thing had been a nightmare to me all my life long; I could not bear it any longer.... And, if the operation was not to be successful, I had made up my mind, Donald, that I would never, never see you again.... That Mary Blake should vanish. That there should be no one left but Anne, and that she would never be found, for--there would be nothing left in life for her, and she would have been glad to lay it down----" "Oh, Mary, Mary!" he cried, and unheeding the others in the room, he threw his arms about her and held her fast. "It wouldn't have mattered if the experiment had failed, dear. I love you, _you_--you must have seen, just now, out there on the stairs--you must have realized that it would have made no difference----"