But then, there was the ring!  Isabelle had been right.  It was no lady’s ornament, and he had seen the initials L. H. graven in the heart of the stone as their hands had met one day in dressing a wound.  Evadne Hildreth was not one to wear a man’s ring lightly and John Randolph bent his head and groaned.

“Sister, Sister, won’t you sing before you go?”

“Oh, yes, Sister, give us just one song!”

The men raised themselves on their elbows in pleading entreaty, and Evadne stood in all her sweet unconsciousness before him and began to do their will.  Soft and clear the music fell about him.  The air was ’The last Rose of Summer’ but the words were ‘Jesus, Lover of my soul.’  When the song was ended, John Randolph, hushed and comforted, walked noiselessly down the stairway and out into the quiet street.

Evadne had sung her message, while she folded its leaves of healing down over her own sore heart, and human love had paled before the exquisite beauty of the love of God!

CHAPTER XXVIII.

“John Randolph!”

“Rege!”

The two men stood facing each other with hands held in a vice-like grasp, all unconscious of what was going on around them in the street.

“Where did you come from?”

“Where have you been?”

John laughed.  “In and around Marlborough all the time, except when I went to New York for my degree.”

“And never let us hear a word from you all these years!”

“You forget, Rege, your father forbade me to hold any communication with Hollywood.”

Reginald’s face grew grave.  “Poor father.  Well he’s done with it all now.”

“You don’t mean that he is dead, Rege?”

“Yes—­and little Nan.”

“Oh!” The exclamation was sharp with pain.

“I think she fretted for you, John.  She just seemed to pine away.  Every day we missed her about the same time, and they always found her in the same place, down by the green road.  Then scarlet fever came.  She never spoke of getting well—­didn’t seem to want to.  The night she died she put her arms around mother’s neck and whispered.  ’Tell Don me’ll be waitin’ at the gate.’  That was all.”

John wrung Reginald’s hand and turned away.  Reginald looked after him with misty eyes.  “I used to tell mother it would break his heart.  I never saw any one so wrapped up in a child!”

“And your father, Rege?” John was calm again.

“Had a fit of apoplexy soon after.  I think Nan was the only thing in the world he cared for.  It had never struck him that she could die.  We sold Hollywood and went abroad.  Mother’s health broke down—­she was never very strong, you know.  We spent one year in Italy and one in France, but the shock had been too great.  She lies in a lovely spot beside the sea.”

“Not your mother too, Rege!”

Reginald’s voice broke.  “Yes, they are all gone.  It was a great deal to happen in a few years.  I am a wealthy man, John, but I am all alone in the world, except for Elise.  Well,” he added more lightly, “I have learned not to rebel at the inevitable.  It is only what we have to expect.”