That night she could not sleep.  “I can’t,” she said to herself, miserably; “I can’t possibly go on, if—­Oh, why should he make it so hard for me!”

If the future was to be possible on the lines already laid down, he, too, must keep the impersonal attitude.  Yet, none the less, she was conscious of an uplifting joy that would not be put aside, but insistently demanded its right of expression.

She did not dare trust herself to see Allison again, and yet she must.  She could not fail him now, when he needed her so much, nor could she ask the others to see that they were not left alone.  One day might be gained for respite by the plea of a headache, which is woman’s friend as often as it is her enemy.

And, after that one day, what then?  What other excuse could she make that would not seem heartless and cold?

It was an old saying of Aunt Francesca’s that “when you can’t see straight ahead, it’s because you’re about to turn a corner.”  She tormented herself throughout the night with futile speculations that led to nothing except the headache which she had planned to offer as an excuse.

A brief note gave her the day to herself, and also brought flowers from Allison, with a friendly note in his own hand.  Doctor Jack was the messenger and took occasion to offer his services in the conquest of the headache, but Rose declined with thanks, sending down word that she preferred to sleep it off.

Though breakfast might be a movable feast at Madame’s, it was always consistently late.  It was nearly nine o’clock in the morning when the telephone wakened Madame from a dreamless sleep.  She listened until it became annoying, but no one answered it.  Finally she got up, rather impatiently, and went to it herself, anticipating Rose by only a minute.

Tremulous with suspense, Rose waited, scarcely daring to breathe until Madame turned with a cry of joy, the receiver falling from her nerveless hand.  “Rose!  Rose! he’s saved!  Our boy is saved!  He’s saved, do you understand?”

“Truly?  Is it sure?”

“Blessedly sure!  Oh, Rose, he’s saved!”

The little old lady was sobbing in an ecstasy of relief.

Rose led her to a couch and waited quietly until she was almost calm, then went back to her own room.  Once more her world was changed, as long ago she had seen how it must be with her should the one thing happen.  She, with the others, had hoped and prayed for it; her dearest dream had come true at last, and left her desolate.

She was unselfishly glad for Allison, for the Colonel, Aunt Francesca, Doctor Jack, the sorrowing twins, and, in a way, for herself.  It had been given her to serve him, and she had not hoped for more.  It made things easier now, though she had not thought the corner would be turned in just this way.

Having made up her mind and completed her plans, she went to Madame as soon as she was dressed.  She had hidden her paleness with so little rouge that even Madame’s keen eyes could not suspect it.