“I believe she would.  She has done more for me than any other single individual.”

“She!” he asked with keen surprise.

“Yes, she wakened me from selfish ease to see the sufferings of others, and to realize my sisterhood to them.”

“Yes, but you must first have had a heart to be touched, or all the Mrs. Blakes on this planet could not have wakened it.”

“Even allowing your words to be true, does it not show power amounting very nearly to genius to be able to arouse another to a painful duty, and help them to take hold of it—­I won’t say, manfully?”

“No, a better word is needed in this case.  Woman’s fine sympathy and instinct are too perfect to be called after any masculine term wholly human.”

“You can pay nice compliments,” I said, laughing.  He bowed his head gravely—­a very fine and shapely head I noticed it was too, set well on a neck and shoulders that betokened the trained athlete.

“Now, doctor, Miss Selwyn can’t generally stay loitering very long among us Mill Roaders, and p’raps we’d better get our business done up right away.  Anyway if Mr. Bowen is anything like me, he’s getting fidgetty by this time to know if he’s likely to get to them big city doctors.”

“I have grown too intimate with patience to be so easily disturbed,” he said, gently.

“You would like to get your sight?” I questioned.  He spoke so calmly, the thought occurred he might have grown to love the hush of darkness.  His face flushed.  I never knew before or since a person of his years who colored so easily.

“Only God can know how I have longed to see the light, and the face of my fellow man; but I had no hope until Death opened my eyes.”

His voice trembled with emotion.

“What a privilege to give that man his sight,” I murmured to the doctor.

“The privilege belongs to you, I believe.”

“Oh, no indeed.  I was thinking of the skill of your profession.  It seems almost God-like.”

“We do our work mainly for money.  In this case I am told you supply that.”

Mrs. Blake was waiting impatiently.

“What is to be done?  Can Mr. Bowen go immediately?” I asked.

“To-morrow, if he is ready.  I have already written to the doctor who will take charge of his case.  He is famous for diseases of the eye, especially cataract, which is the trouble here.”

“He will need some one to accompany him?” I asked anxiously.  “This seemed the chief difficulty now.”

“Not necessarily.  The conductor is a kind-hearted fellow, and would see to him.  But a friend of mine is going to-morrow, and he will not leave him until he sees him safe in the hospital.”

“Could he be ready so soon?” I turned with my question to Mrs. Blake.

“I’ve got everything ready only just to pack in a valise—­fine shirts and all, we’ve sat up till after midnight making fine shirts and things, me and two other women.”