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 3, 1864.]

was going on to convalescence—as indeed was South Wennock generally. In less than a week after Sir Stephen’s visit Lucy was able to leave her bed for the sofa. Mr. Frederick Grey considered himself a very ill-used man. Not once, save that single time when she lay in imminent danger and did not know him, had he been admitted to see Lucy. But upon hearing from his Uncle John that she was sitting up, he went down forthwith to Mr. Carlton’s. Admitted by Jonathan, asking leave and licence of nobody, he walked straight up-stairs and knocked at Lucy’s chamber. “Come in,” came the answer in Lucy’s voice, and he went in and found her alone, lying on the sofa, near the fire, dressed, and covered over with a silken coverlid.

The red flush flew into her white cheeks, but when the first moment of surprise was over she held out her hand in token of welcome. Not a word was spoken by either. He passed his arm underneath the pillow on which she was lying and raised it up, bringing her fair young face closer to his own.

“Lucy, my whole life will be one of thankfulness!”

“Did you think I should die?”

“Yes, my darling, I did. I may tell you so, now the danger’s over. Lucy, it must not be long before you are mine; I cannot risk another trial, such as this has been.”

“Had I been yours ever so, you could not have guarded me from it,” was her answer.

“Not from the illness; I am aware of that. But to know that you were ill—ill unto death and I not allowed to be with you—there was my trial. I do not care to tell you how badly I bore it; how I paced before the house outside, hour after hour, and night after night, watching its walls. Illness may come to you as my wife, Lucy, but it will be my right to tend you then; my right above anybody’s in the world! Sisters, nurses, friends, what are they compared to me?”

How delightful it was to lie there! In the sweet languor of growing convalescence, pressed to that manly heart, in those protecting arms! It was almost worth having been ill for. She looked up in his face with a tender smile.

“I shall always say you saved me, Frederick.”

“I saved you! How?”

“By sending for Sir Stephen. Jane declares that soon after he entered, I seemed to grow calmer. He gave me something, a powder, she says, and he changed the lotion that they were putting to my head.”

“Lucy, dear, he did nothing for you that my Uncle John was not doing. The disorder was upon the turn when he came.”

“I cannot part with my opinion; neither will Jane. It is pleasant to me to think that I owe my prolonged life to your father: or rather to you for getting him here.”

“Keep the opinion, then,” he whispered.

“And take one thing to your heart, love—that you shall owe a very great portion of your future life’s happiness to me. I will strive to make it, by God’s blessing.”

“Don’t you think you have held me up long enough?” she presently said.

“Does it tire you? or hurt you?”

“Oh no. But you will be tired.”

He raised his own face for a moment, that he might look into her eyes.

“Tired, did you say? I wish I might hold you here long enough to become tired.”

Her gaze fell beneath the saucy glance that danced in his, and he bent his face to kiss away the bright blushes on her cheek. When folks get into mischief, you know, they are nearly sure to be caught. There was a brisk knock at the door, and Mr. Carlton stood before them. A far brighter blush rose then, and she would have shrunk in maidenly timidity from the arms that encircled her. But Frederick Grey altogether declined to let her so shrink. He kept her where she was, held to him, and raised his head with calm self-possession.

“What do you do here, Mr. Carlton?”

“Do!” returned Mr. Carlton. “It is my own house.”

“Your own house, of course. But this is Lady Lucy’s room in it.”

It seemed quite impossible for those two to meet without something unpleasant taking place between them, some little interchange of compliments indicative of incipient warfare. Frederick Grey gently laid Lucy down, and stood upright by her side, his tall form drawn to its full height.

“As my sister-in-law’s medical attendant, and as her protector so long as she is underneath my roof, perhaps you will allow me to inquire