"I won't try, unless you go to sleep too. Draw the sofa up by the bed and lie down."
He obeyed her command, willing to gratify her least caprice. She gave him one of her pillows, threw a part of the counterpane over him, and made him lie there, holding fast to his hand, afraid to be alone, even in her dreams.
"Do you feel sleepy, Grant?" she asked, after a pause.
"Perhaps so; I am resting, at all events."
"Don't you remember when I was sick once, years ago, I never would sleep unless I held your hand?"
"Yes, dear."
How far back the time looked—he had been a mere youth then—what a fearful waste lay between that season and the present!
Suddenly Elsie started up again.
"You sent the letter, Grant?"
"Yes, yes; be content."