their own thoughts. About them was quiet, stillness, peace--twilight was
falling, and a soft, mellow light was in the room.

"No one would dare"--the words came from Mrs. Thornton in almost
breathless corroboration, almost of their own accord it seemed, as
though heavy upon her lay the solemnity of her surroundings.

Madison's hand went to his pocket--slowly he drew out his check-book and
laid it upon the table.

"I am not a rich man"--his voice was very low, very earnest--"but I feel
that this is something deeper, grander, bigger than anything the world
perhaps has ever known before; something higher and above one's own
self; it seems as though here were the chrysalis that, once developed to
its perfect state, would sweep pain and sorrow from suffering humanity;
it is as though a new, glad era had dawned for all mankind. I am glad
to give and humbly proud to have a part in this." He took out his
fountain pen, opened the check-book, and began to write.

Thornton leaned forward a little, watching him.

Silence fell again--there was no sound save the almost inaudible
scratching of Madison's pen. Upon Mrs. Thornton's face was a happy,
radiant smile; Helena's face was impassive, but in the dark eyes lurked
a puzzled light; the two Holmes sat awkwardly, still upon the edges of
their chairs, gazing at their son across the room, incredulously, as
though they still could not believe--and occasionally Mrs. Holmes wiped
her eyes.

Madison's pen moved on: "Pay to the order of Miss Helena Vail the sum of