But he had failed.

He had failed in a sacred trust, and he had imagined Muriel Feversham's eyes looking at him with reproach from the barrier of the skies.

He had heard her voice in his dreams saying to him gently, ever so gently: "Since I was dead, since I was taken away to where I could only see and not help, surely you might have helped.

Just for my sake you might have helped,--you whose work in the world was at an end." And the long tale of his inactive years had stood up to accuse him.

Now, however, the guilt was lifted from his shoulders, and by Harry Feversham's own act.