She smiled gratefully as they went out into the dusty street together. Soon she would have him no more to walk beside her. Great changes had come to Paul Vespan since that dark night when Madge Barberry's brave hand snatched him from death to life. The editor, once his friend, had remained so. After a pleasant probation in his own office, he was sending him to take charge of a small provincial paper in a cathedral town.
"You have heard the good news, Madge?" said Paul, thinking of this.
Yes, she had heard it. But to her, it was not good news, though she was glad for him.
"I hope you will be very happy," she faltered.
"I shall be very lonely. Unless—Madge, will you come with me?"
"I? Oh! no! I should be standing in your light."
"You? What are you saying, Madge? Why, didn't you bring me back to light? My life will be dark, indeed, without you."
"Then," she said, as they entered Marigold Place, "I will go with you."
Paul Vespan's after-history bears tender witness to the wisdom of his choice. In the light of his wife's unswerving love, he works bravely. The rewards which are sure to come will be sweeter because shared by her. She is his "lady with the lamp," standing no more beside the weary craven in his hour of tragic necessity, but shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart, with the valiant world-soldier in the thick of his battle for fame and fortune.
