had　a　handsome；　aquiline　face　which　looked　very　clever。　　His　talk　was　brilliantly　witty。　　When　he　spoke　people　paused　as　if　they　could　not　bear　to　lose　a　phrase　or　even　a　word。　　But　in　the　midst　of　the　trills　of　laughter　surrounding　him　his　eyes　were　unchangingly　sad。　　His　face　laughed　or　smiled；　but　his　eyes　never。
  〃He　is　the　greatest　artist　in　England　and　the　most　brilliant　man；〃　Mrs。　MacNairn　said　to　me；　quietly。　　〃But　he　is　the　saddest；　too。　　He　had　a　lovely　daughter　who　was　killed　instantly；　in　his　presence；　by　a　fall。　　They　had　been　inseparable　companions　and　she　was　the　delight　of　his　life。　　That　strange；　fixed　look　has　been　in　his　eyes　ever　since。　　I　know　you　have　noticed　it。〃
  We　were　walking　about　among　the　flower…　beds　after　tea；　and　Mr。　MacNairn　was　showing　me　a　cloud　of　blue　larkspurs　in　a　corner　when　I　saw　something　which　made　me　turn　toward　him　rather　quickly。
  〃There　is　one！〃　I　said。　　〃Do　look　at　her！　　Now　you　see　what　I　mean！　　The　girl　standing　with　her　hand　on　Mr。　Le　Breton's　arm。〃
  Mr。　Le　Breton　was　the　brilliant　man　with　the　sad　eyes。　　He　was　standing　looking　at　a　mass　of　white…and…purple　iris　at　the　other　side　of　the　garden。　　There　were　two　or　three　people　with　him；　but　it　seemed　as　if　for　a　moment　he　had　forgotten　themhad　forgotten　where　he　was。　　I　wondered　suddenly　if　his　daughter　had　been　fond　of　irises。　　He　was　looking　at　them　with　such　a　tender；　lost　expression。　　The　girl；　who　was　a　lovely；　fair　thing；　was　standing　quite　close　to　him　with　her　hand　in　his　arm；　and　she　was　smiling；　toosuch　a　smile！
  〃Mr。　Le　Breton！〃　Mr。　MacNairn　said　in　a　rather　startled　tone。　　〃The　girl　with　her　hand　in　his　arm？〃
  〃Yes。　　You　see　how　fair　she　is；〃　I　answered。
  〃And　she　has　that　transparent　look。　　It　is　so　lovely。　　Don't　you　think　so？　　SHE　is　one　of　the　White　People。〃
  He　stood　very　still；　looking　across　the　flowers　at　the　group。　　There　was　a　singular　interest　and　intensity　in　his　expression。　　He　watched　the　pair　silently　for　a　whole　minute；　I　think。
  〃Ye…es；〃　he　said；　slowly；　at　last；　〃I　do　see　what　you　meanand　it　IS　lovely。　　I　don't　seem　to　know　her　well。　　She　must　be　a　new　friend　of　my　mother's。　　So　she　is　one　of　the　White　People？〃
  〃She　looks　like　a　white　iris　herself；　doesn't　she？〃　I　said。　　〃Now　you　know。〃
  〃Yes；　now　I　know；〃　he　answered。
  I　asked　Mrs。　MacNairn　later　who　the　girl　was；　but　she　didn't　seem　to　recognize　my　description　of　her。　　Mr。　Le　Breton　had　gone　away　by　that　time；　and　so　had　the　girl　herself。
  〃The　tall；　very　fair　one　in　the　misty；　pale…　gray　dress；〃　I　said。　　〃She　was　near　Mr。　Le　Breton　when　he　was　looking　at　the　iris…bed。　　You　were　cutting　some　roses　only　a　few　yards　away　from　her。　　That　VERY　fair　girl？〃
  Mrs。　MacNairn　paused　a　moment　and　looked　puzzled。
  〃Mildred　Keith　is　fair；〃　she　reflected；　〃but　she　was　not　there　then。　　I　don't　recall　seeing　a　girl。　　I　was　cutting　some　buds　for　Mrs。　Anstruther。　　I〃　　She　paused　again　and　turned　toward　her　son；　who　was　standing　watching　us。　　I　saw　their　eyes　meet　in　a　rather　arrested　way。
  〃It　was　not　Mildred　Keith；〃　he　said。　　〃Miss　Muircarrie　is　inquiring　because　this　girl　was　one　of　those　she　calls　the　White　People。　　She　was　not　any　one　I　had　seen　here　before。〃
  There　was　a　second's　silence　before　Mrs。　MacNairn　smilingly　gave　me　one　of　her　light；　thrilling　touches　on　my　arm。
  〃Ah！　　I　remember；〃　she　said。　　〃Hector　told　me　about　the　White　People。　　He　rather　fancied　I　might　be　one。〃
  I　am　afraid　I　rather　stared　at　her　as　I　slowly　shook　my　head。　　You　see　she　was　almost　one；　but　not　quite。
  〃I　was　so　busy　with　my　roses　that　I　did　not　notice　who　was　standing　near　Mr。　Le　Breton；〃　she　said。　　〃Perhaps　it　was　Anabel　Mere。　　She　is　a　more　transparent　sort　of　girl　than　Mildred；　and　she　is　more　blond。　　And　you　don't　know　her；　Hector？　　I　dare　say　it　was　she。〃
  CHAPTER　VI
  I　remained　in　London　several　weeks。　　I　stayed　because　the　MacNairns　were　so　good　to　me。　　I　could　not　have　told　any　one　how　I　loved　Mrs。　MacNairn；　and　how　different　everything　seemed　when　I　was　with　her。　　I　was　never　shy　when　we　were　together。　　There　seemed　to　be　no　such　thing　as　shyness　in　the　world。　　I　was　not　shy　with　Mr。　MacNairn；　either。　　After　I　had　sat　under　the　big　apple…tree　boughs　in　the　walled　garden　a　few　times　I　realized　that　I　had　begun　to　belong　to　somebody。　　Those　two　marvelous　people　cared　for　me　in　that　way　in　a　way　that　made　me　feel　as　if　I　were　a　real　girl；　not　merely　a　queer　little　awkward　ghost　in　a　far…away　castle　which　nobody　wanted　to　visit　because　it　was　so　dull　and　desolate　and　far　from　London。　　They　were　so　clever；　and　knew　all　the　interesting　things　in　the　world；　but　their　cleverness　and　experience　never　bewildered　or　overwhelmed　me。
  〃You　were　born　a　wonderful　little　creature；　and　Angus　Macayre　has　filled　your　mind　with　strange；　rich　furnishings　and　marvelous　color　and　form；〃　Mrs。　MacNairn　actually　said　to　me　one　day　when　we　were　sitting　together　and　she　was　holding　my　hand　and　softly；　slowly　patting　it。　　She　had　a　way　of　doing　that；　and　she　had　also　a　way　of　keeping　me　very　near　her　whenever　she　could。　　She　said　once　that　she　liked　to　touch　me　now　and　then　to　make　sure　that　I　was　quite　real　and　would　not　melt　away。　　I　did　not　know　then　why　she　said　it；　but　I　understood　afterward。
  Sometimes　we　sat　under　the　apple…tree　until　the　long　twilight　deepened　into　shadow；　which　closed　round　us；　and　a　nightingale　that　lived　in　the　garden　began　to　sing。　　We　all　three　loved　the　nightingale；　and　felt　as　though　it　knew　that　we　were　listening　to　it。　　It　is　a　wonderful　thing　to　sit　quite　still　listening　to　a　bird　singing　in　the　dark；　and　to　dare　to　feel　that　while　it　sings　it　knows　how　your　soul　adores　it。　　It　is　like　a　kind　of　worship。
  We　had　been　sitting　listening　for　quite　a　long　time；　and　the　nightingale　had　just　ceased　and　left　the　darkness　an　exquisite　silence　which　fell　suddenly　but　softly　as　the　last　note　dropped；　when　Mrs。　MacNairn　began　to　talk　for　the　first　time　of　what　she　called　The　Fear。
  I　don't　remember　just　how　she　began；　and　for　a　few　minutes　I　did　not　quite　understand　what　she　meant。　　But　as　she　went　on；　and　Mr。　MacNairn　joined　in　the　talk；　their　meaning　became　a　clear　thing　to　me；　and　I　knew　that　they　were　only　talking　quite　simply　of　something　they　had　often　talked　of　before。　　They　were　not　as　afraid　of　The　Fear　as　most　people　are；　because　they　had　thought　of　and　reasoned　about　it　so　much；　and　always　calmly　and　with　clear　and　open　minds。
  By　The　Fear　they　meant　that　mysterious　horror　most　people　feel　at　the　thought　of　passing　out　of　the　world　they　know　into　the　one　they　don't　know　at　all。
  How　quiet；　how　still　it　was　inside　the　walls　of　the　old　garden；　as　we　three　sat　under　the　boughs　and　talked　about　it！　　And　what　sweet　night　scents　of　leaves　and　sleeping　flowers　were　in　every　breath　we　drew！　　And　how　one's　heart　moved　and　lifted　when　the　nightingale　broke　out　again！
  〃If　one　had　seen　or　heard　one　little　thing；　if　one's　mortal　being　could　catch　one　glimpse　of　light　in　the　dark；〃　Mrs。　MacNairn's　low　voice　said　out　of　the　shadow　near　me；　〃The　Fear　would　be　gone　forever。〃
  〃Perhaps　the　whole　mystery　is　as　simple　as　this；〃　said　her　son's　voice　〃as　simple　as　this：　that　as　there　are　tones　of　music　too　fine　to　be　registered　by　the　human　ear；　so　there　may　be　vibrations　of　light　not　to　be　seen　by　the　human　eye；　form　and　color　as　well　as　sounds；　just　beyond　earthly　perception；　and　yet　as　real　as　ourselves；　as　formed　as　ourselves；　only　existing　in　that　other　dimension。〃
  There　was　an　intenseness　which　was　almost　a　note　of　anguish　in　Mrs。　MacNairn's　answer；　even　though　her　voice　was　very　low。　　I　involuntarily　turned　my　head　to　look　at　her；　though　of　course　it　was　too　dark　to　see　her　face。　　I　felt　somehow　as　if　her　hands　were　wrung　together　in　her　lap。
  〃Oh！〃　she　said；　〃if　one　only　had　some　shadow　of　a　proof　that　the　mystery　is　only　that　WE　cannot　see；　that　WE　cannot　hear；　though　they　are　really　quite　near　us；　with　usthe　ones　who　seem　to　have　gone　away　and　whom　we　feel　we　cannot　live　without。　　If　once　we　could　be　sure！　　There　would　be　no　Fearthere　would　be　none！〃
  〃Dearest〃he　often　called　her　〃Dearest；〃　and　his　voice　had　a　wonderful　sound　in　the　darkness；　it　was　caress　and　strength；　and　it　seemed　to　speak　to　her　of　things　they　knew　which　I　did　not〃we　have　vowed　to　each　other　that　we　WILL　believe　there　is　no　reason　for　The　Fear。　　It　was　a　vow　between　us。〃
  〃Yes！　　Yes！〃　she　cried；　breathlessly；　〃but　sometimes；　Hectorsometimes〃
  〃Miss　Muircarrie　does　not　feel　it〃
  〃Please　say　‘Ysobel'！〃　I　broke　in。　　〃Please　do。〃
  He　went　on　as　quietly　as　if　he　had　not　even　paused：
  〃Ysobel　told　me　the　first　night　we　met　that　it　seemed　as　if　she　could　not　believe　in　it。〃
  〃It　never　seems　real　to　me　at　all；〃　I　said。　　〃Perhaps　that　is　because　I　can　never　forget　what　Jean　told　me　about　my　mother　lying　still　upon　her　bed；　and　listening　to　some　one　calling　her。〃　　（I　had　told　them　Jean's　story　a　few　days　before。）　　〃I　knew　it　was　my　father；　Jean　knew；　too。〃
  〃How　did　you　know？〃　Mrs。　MacNairn's　voice　was　almost　a　whisper。
  〃I　could　not　tell　you　that。　　I　never　asked　myself　HOW　it　was。　　But　I　KNEW。　　We　both　KNEW。　　Perhaps〃I　hesitated〃it　was　because　in　the　Highlands　people　often　believe　things　like　that。　　One　hears　so　many　stories　all　one's