Natalie had inherited from a Northern Leighton aunt an old property on a
New England hillside. The other contained the third offer from a
development company that had long coveted the grounds about Consolation
Cottage.

"It's a great deal of money, dear," said Mrs. Leighton to Natalie. "What
shall we do?"

For a moment Natalie did not reply, and when she spoke, it was not in
answer. She said:

"Mother, where is Lew? I want him." Her low voice quivered with desire.

Mrs. Leighton put her fingers into Natalie's soft hair and drew the
girl's head against her breast. A lump rose in her throat. She longed to
murmur comfort, but she had long since lost the habit of words. What was
life worth if she could not buy with it happiness for this her only
remaining love?

"Darling," she whispered at last, "whatever you wish, whatever you say,
we'll do. Do you think--would you like to go back to--to Nadir--and look
for Lewis?"

Natalie divined the sacrifice in those halting words. Her thin arms went
up around Ann Leighton's neck. She pressed her face hard against her
mother's shoulder. She wanted to cry, but could not. Without raising her
face, she shook her head and said:

"No, no. I don't want ever to go back to Nadir. Lew is not there. That
night--that night after we buried father I went out on the hills and