The sun was now gold--rimming the low hills in the west; the sky was pale blue; the spring flowers whitened the meadow.

Twilight began to deepen; the evening star twinkled out of the sky; the hush of the gloaming hour stole over the land.
"Four weeks home--and nothing done.

So little time left!" he muttered.
Two weeks of that period he had been unable to leave his bed.

The rest of the time he had dragged himself around, trying to live up to his resolve, to get at the meaning of the present, to turn his sister Lorna from the path of dalliance.

And he had failed in all.
His sister presented the problem that most distressed Lane.