"Will it?" said Archie doubtfully. Already Mark's face was drawn and haggard; he looked ten years older than his brother.
"What is life," said Mark contemptuously, "if the salt of helping a pal be taken from it? I'm not useless yet. Good night. I sleep in a shed, you know. And I can see the stars whenever I open my eyes."
"It's so cloudy here," said Archibald.
"I can see through most clouds, but s-s-some——"
Mark paused abruptly, the light faded in his eyes, as he turned and left the room.
CHAPTER XX
BETTY SEES A SPRIG OF RUE
Archibald returned to Westchester some three days later. In the small black bag was another MS. quite as bulky as the first, and covered with Mark's handwriting. Blots and smudges deformed it; the edges were dog-eared, whole sentences were excised, red pencil marks flamed amidst the black. Yet Archibald read it through again and again, smiling, and nodding his handsome head. He was not alone in his first-class carriage, and his companion, a shrewd Scotch lawyer, guessed why the minister kept moving his lips as he read his MS. In fancy he was declaiming it.
The day after his arrival at the lodge the elder brother had said to Mark: "By the way, Betty Kirtling sent her love to you. Have you any message for her?"
"None," said he slowly. "I hope she is well."