Oh, Garth! Oh, beautiful Garth of the shining eyes! Dr.Rob drew Deryck's letter from his pocket and studied it.
"Well," he said slowly, "she is a pretty, dainty little thing; just the sort of elegant young woman you would like to have about you, could you see her." "Dark or fair ?" asked Garth.
The doctor glanced at what he could see of Jane's cheek, and at the brown hands holding on to the mantelpiece.
"Fair," said Dr.Rob, without a moment's hesitation.
Jane started and glanced round.

Why should this little man be lying on his own account?
"Hair ?" queried the strained voice from the bed.
"Well," said Dr.Rob deliberately, "it is mostly tucked away under a modest little cap; but, were it not for that wise restraint, I should say it might be that kind of fluffy, fly-away floss-silk, which puts the finishing touch to a dainty, pretty woman." Garth lay back, panting, and pressed his hands over his sightless face.
"Doctor," he said, "I know I have given you heaps of trouble, and to-day you must think me a fool.

But if you do not wish me to go mad in my blindness, send that girl away.

Do not let her enter my room again." "Now, Mr.Dalmain," said Dr.Mackenzie patiently; "let us consider this thing.

We may take it you have nothing against this young lady excepting a chance resemblance in her voice to that of a friend of yours now far away.