family. Things “got him” quickly. He was prone to fits of despondency. Peter Jr. didn’t like the look on his face.

“Buck up, old man. We’ve got to stick it out for Mother. She’s all in. Why don’t you go and have a smoke?” he asked.

“Buck up! Stick it out! Out for a smoke! Then back again! The same routine. Waiting! Waiting for what? Living the whole thing over and over again a thousand times! I can’t stand it, I tell you. I can’t,—I can’t,—” he sobbed as he dashed from the room. Peter Jr. raced after him, fearing what he might do. They disappeared down the hallway. The room was empty, save the patient, who was now resting very quietly.

Peter Borne became conscious of a presence. He opened his eyes a bit. Something hazy was at the foot of the bed. He looked again. It was getting clearer. Now he could make it out. It was his nurse. No, it was someone else. It was a beautiful young girl.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Where did you come from? You are not my nurse.”

The girl smiled and as she did the room seemed to fill with a golden sunshine, such as Peter had never seen before. “You called me,” she answered.

“I called you?” asked the man. “I don’t remember calling you.”

“You have been calling me for the last twenty-four hours, but you would not see me. Something was holding you,” she answered.

“But how did you get here?” asked the old man again.

“Through that door,” she answered pointing to the wall behind her.

“But there is no door there,” the man declared. “Who are you, I say! Are you here to torment me? Have I gone mad?”

The girl raised her hand and Peter stopped.

“I came not to torment you. I came to guide you in your journey if you wish to take it. You will see that door when you are ready and not before. Are you ready?” she asked.

Peter’s face began to show enlightenment.

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