Robert Austin, a man of sterling qualities, self-made and self-reliant, meets and falls in love with Marmion Moore, a charming New York society woman. The love story progresses to the point where Austin has almost declared himself when the current of events is turned. Austin and Miss Moore are riding in the park one day when her horse takes fright and bolts, Austin, in attempting to save Miss Moore, catches the bridle rein of the runaway, but his own horse swerves and he is dragged and trampled, without, however, releasing his hold. Miss Moore, although thrown, is practically unhurt, but Austin is so severely injured that his life is despaired of. He recovers his health, however, but it is soon manifest that his eyesight is going. This fact becomes painfully evident to him, and the opinion of the eminent specialist whom he consults, far from giving him encouragement, only convinces him that it will be a matter of only a very short time when the light of day with him will give place to the darkness of night. Miss Moore is a constant inquirer at Austin’s home, and we see her on some of her visits. Austin is merely formal in his manner, concealing his affliction because he fears that if she knows she may accept him out of pure sympathy. His old manner of loving embarrassment has given way to set determination. Miss Moore marvels at his changed manner. Austin falls deeper and deeper in love, and so does the charming object of his affections. He fights his great battle and holds himself in check. At the end of each of her visits, as Marmion leaves the room, he gropes his way toward the large window which overlooks the street. He can see but faintly the outlines of figures and faces on the sidewalk. In order to be sure that Marmion is the one to whom he is about to bow, he counts what he imagines will be the number of steps she will take between the hall door and her carriage. When the proper moment comes he bows and smiles from the window. Marmion returns his bow, little knowing that she is unseen by the pathetic figure at the window. Austin cannot longer bear the strain of repressing his love for Marmion. In order to bring matters to a conclusion he writes her that the strain of overwork necessitates his going abroad, and in saying farewell wishes her every happiness. Marmion comes to say good-bye. Austin is unable to see her, but cleverly conceals his blindness and represses the emotions that almost overwhelm him. His words are formal, almost cold, they speak a few words of parting and Marmion goes away, forgetting in her confusion her handbag, which she has left on the table. Austin listens for the door to close. As it does he begins to count, “one, two, three, four, five, six … ten, eleven, twelve…” He gets this far when Marmion reenters, having missed her handbag on reaching the hallway. Austin continues to count, oblivious of her presence, and makes his way toward the window. She stands rooted to the floor until after he has bowed and smiled toward the street and then turned away in an agony of despair. Marmion can keep silent no longer but, stretching out her arms to the man who has unwittingly declared his great love for her, she calls him by name.