"My plan is working well," said Lorimer; "I will give the signal to Philip. Be careful that she does not enter this room until everything is ready."
The doctor nodded assent, as he opened Dora's door and disappeared inside.
Philip came upstairs, trembling like a culprit. When he looked around and took in the details of the poor studio, which was such a faithful copy of another dear to both, he could not restrain his emotion. All that Dora had kept back from his knowledge, this pathetic room revealed to him. He had difficulty in keeping back his tears.
"Dora is there," whispered Lorimer, pointing to the room.
"Ah, she is there!"
He stepped softly over on tiptoe. Through the door of this room, the heart of Philip sent a message to Dora: "If a man's devotion can revive a woman's long-lost smile, and redeem the wrong that he has thoughtlessly inflicted, you shall live joyously once more, cherished and adored. The remainder of my life shall be consecrated to your happiness."
Dr. Templeton came into the studio, and announced that Dora was sleeping.
"To tell you the truth," said he to Lorimer, "your plan frightened me somewhat at first. I was afraid that the shock might be a little too much for our fragile patient. She is far from strong, she has been overtaxing her strength, and the emotions of this day, followed up by such a scene as you have planned, would, I feared, be a heavy strain to subject her to. However, I have just carefully sounded her heart, and, thank Heaven, I feel relieved. It is beating regularly enough now, and I think we can, in all security, try the little manœuvre you suggest. It is a trifle melodramatic perhaps, but an excellent idea for all that."
"Well, then, to work at once," said Lorimer. "Let us proceed to make this room a still more faithful copy of the St. John's Wood studio than Dora has done, by adding to it the artist himself."
Philip, docile as a child in the hands of these two friends, lent himself to the scheme, and did exactly as he was bid. He began by taking off his coat and donning his working jacket, then, palette and brush in hand, he seated himself on the stool in front of the easel that bore the portrait of Dora.