his sphere of helpfulness to others, to reach out to all who are stricken and have faith to come. I remember his writing that on the slate, which he used for conversation before his sight was completely taken from him. I remember the words as though they were before me now: 'I have dreamed often of a wider field, of reaching out to help the thousands beyond this little town—it would be wondrous joy.'"
"Yes?" said Helena in a suppressed voice.
"In a way," Madison went on gravely, "his dream is already realized. What has happened here this afternoon will in a few hours be known to the whole civilized world, and there will be no room for incredulity or doubt—on whatever ground people see fit to base their belief, they must still believe; and, believing, they will come here in ever increasing numbers—but this little village is totally inadequate to accommodate them. At first, yes, as I said to Mrs. Thornton; but afterwards—no. Mrs. Thornton's idea, Mr. Thornton's idea and my own, if I may say so, is to build and endow a great sanatorium that, in consonance with the Patriarch's ideals, shall be free to all—and we feel that the money for this purpose will come gladly and spontaneously, as it so appropriately should come, from those who find joy and peace and health again at the Patriarch's hands."
Helena half rose from her chair, as she stole a veiled glance at Madison.
"It would be wonderful," she said, with a little catch in her voice. "And he—it would be
