John Randolph examined her face critically.  Could she call him “poor Louis” if she loved?

“His present trouble is nervous strain, aggravated by the unaccustomed confinement, and some mental excitement under which he is laboring.  He must have a long rest, with a complete change of environment.  If anyone can lift the cloud which seems to be hanging over him, I think it is you.”

Evadne shook her head sadly.  “The only one who can help Louis is Jesus Christ,” she said.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Louis Hildreth lay upon a couch in the cool library the morning after his arrival at ‘The Willows.’  Evadne had been shocked at the change in him since she had seen him last.  His eyes were sunken, while underneath purple shadows fell upon his pallid cheeks.  He touched Evadne’s hand as she sat beside him.  It was his hand!

“What a splendid fellow Randolph is!” he exclaimed suddenly.  “He is making himself felt in Marlborough, I tell you.  Strange, how some men forge their way to the front, while the rest of us just float down the stream of mediocrity.  No wonder we are not missed, when we drop out of the babbling conglomerate of humanity into silence,” he added bitterly.  “Who would miss a single pair of fins from amidst a shoal of herring!”

“I think it is because Doctor Randolph is not content to float, Louis,” Evadne answered gently.  “He must always be climbing higher.  Like Paul, he is ‘pressing towards the mark.’”

“He is a grand fellow!  And the beauty of it is he never seems to think of himself at all.  Most men would get to be top-lofty if they accomplished as much as he does every day.”

Evadne’s lips parted in a happy smile.  “I think Doctor Randolph is too much occupied with Jesus to have time to waste upon himself.”

“Upon my word, coz, you’re a puzzle!  You talk in an unknown tongue.  Don’t you know Self is the god we worship, and the aim of our existence is to have it wear purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day?”

“It should not be!” cried Evadne.  “Oh Louis, dear Louis, life can never be grand until we are able to say—­’Self has been crucified with Christ!’”

* * * * *

Weeks rolled into months and Louis was still at ‘The Willows.’  His cynicism had come to have a strangely wistful ring.  John Randolph’s visits were frequent and they held long conversations together, these men, the one who had seized every opportunity and made the most of it, the other who had let his golden chances slip through his fingers one by one; then John Randolph would go bravely back to his life of toil, while Louis listened to Evadne’s sweet voice as she sang in the gloaming, or watched his ring glisten as her deft fingers were busy with their deeds of love.

“How do you do it?” he exclaimed one evening when they were alone together.  “You never rest!  Your whole life seems to be centered in the lives of others, and there is nothing attractive about them, if there were I could understand.  It looks like such drudgery to me.  Tell me, little coz, what makes you give up all your ease to make these people happy?”