“She died loving me,” he said to himself, “and I was wrong.  She did not change when I was blind and Barbara was lame.  All these years I have been doubting her while her own assurance was in the house.

“She thought she failed me—­the dear saint thought she failed.  It must take me all eternity to atone to her for that.  But she died loving me.”  His thought lingered fondly upon the words, then the tears streamed suddenly over his blind face.

“Oh, Constance, Constance,” he cried aloud, forgetting that the dead cannot hear.  “You never failed me!  Forgive me if you can.”

XV

The Song of the Pines

Upon the couch in the sitting-room, though it was not yet noon, Miss Mattie slept peacefully.  She had the repose, not merely of one dead, but of one who had been dead long and was very weary at the time of dying.

As Doctor Conrad had expected, her back was entirely well the morning following his visit, and when she awoke, free from pain, she had dinned his praises into Roger’s ears until that long-suffering young man was well-nigh fatigued.  The subject was not exhausted, however, even though Roger was.

[Sidenote:  A Wonder-Worker]

“I’ll tell you what it is, Roger,” Miss Mattie had said, drawing a long breath, and taking a fresh start; “a young man that can cure a pain like mine, with pills that size, has got a great future ahead of him as well as a brilliant past behind.  He’s a wonder-worker, that’s what he is, not to mention bein’ a mind-reader as well.”

She had taken but a half dozen of the capsules the first day, having fallen asleep after taking the third dose.  When Roger went to the office, very weary of Doctor Conrad’s amazing skill, Miss Mattie had resumed her capsules and, shortly thereafter, fallen asleep.

She had slept for the better part of three days, caring little for food and not in the least for domestic tasks.  At the fourth day, Roger became alarmed, but Doctor Conrad had gone back to the city, and there was no one within his reach in whom he had confidence.

[Sidenote:  The Sleeping Woman]

At last it seemed that it was time for him to act, and he shook the sleeping woman vigorously.  “What’s the matter, Roger?” she asked, drowsily; “is it time for my medicine?”

“No, it isn’t time for medicine, but it’s time to get up.  Your back doesn’t hurt you, does it?”

“No,” murmured Miss Mattie, “my back is as good as it ever was.  What time is it?”

“Almost four o’clock and you’ve been asleep ever since ten this morning.  Wake up.”

“Eight—­ten—­twelve—­two—­four,” breathed Miss Mattie, counting on her fingers.  Then, to his astonishment, she sat up straight and rubbed her eyes.  “If it’s four, it’s time for my medicine.”  She went over to the cupboard in which the precious box of capsules was kept, took two more, and returned to the couch.  She still had the box in her hand.