say a few words to you alone, please."

She bent a look of inquiry upon him, and meeting the gaze of his compelling
eyes, led him across the hall into the drawing-room. He noticed how the
soft light she held made her the only white spot in the dark room, till,
touching a tall silver lamp, she threw a rosy halo over everything. That
it was an exquisite, graceful apartment he felt at a glance.

She placed her candle upon a tiny rococo table, and seated herself in a
quaint, low chair overtopped by two tiny ivory horns that spread like hands
of blessing above her head. The doctor declined to sit down, but stood
with one hand upon the fragile table and looked down at her.

"I am inclined to think, after all," he said slowly, "that you are in truth
the divine lady with the light. It is a pretty name and a pretty fame,
--that of Santa Filomena."

What had come over her eyelids that they refused to be raised?

"I think," he continued with a low laugh, "that I shall always call you so,
and have all rights reserved. May I?"

"I am afraid," she answered, raising her eyes, "that your poem would be
without rhyme or reason; a candle is too slight a thing for such an
assumption."

"But not a Rose Delano. I saw her to-day, and at least one sufferer would
turn to kiss your shadow. Do you know what a wonderfully beautiful thing
you have done? I came to-night to thank you; for any one who makes good
our ideals is a subject for thanks. Of course, the thing had no personal