Isabel looked beyond her. "You know, Dinah," she said, her voice very
low, "Scott is a man with an almost infinite greatness of soul. I don't
know if you realize it. I have thought sometimes that you did. But there
are very few--very few--who do."

"I know he is great," whispered Dinah. "I told him so almost--almost the
first time I saw him."

Isabel's smile was very tender. She stooped and gathered Dinah to her
bosom. "Oh, my dear," she murmured, "never prefer the tinsel to the true
gold! He is far, far the greatest man I know. And you--you will never
meet a greater."

Dinah clung to her in quick responsiveness. Her strange agitation was
subsiding, but she could feel the blood yet pulsing in her veins. "I know
it," she whispered. "I am sure of it. He is very much to you, dear, isn't
he?"

"For years he has been my all," Isabel said. "Listen a moment! I will
tell you something. In the first dreadful days of my illness, I was crazy
with trouble, and--and they bound me to keep me from violence. I have
never forgotten it. I never shall. Then--he came. He was very young at
that time, only twenty-three. He had his life before him, and mine--mine
was practically over. Yet he gave up everything--everything for my sake.
He took command; he banished all the horrible people who had taken
possession of me. He gave me freedom, and he set himself to safe-guard
me. He brought me home. He was with me night and day, or if not actually
with me, within call. He and Biddy between them brought me back. They
watched me, nursed me, cared for me. Whenever my trouble was greater than