"Miss Althorpe has chosen well," I rejoined. "Mr. Stone is a man in ten thousand."
The sigh that answered me went to my heart.
"I will pray for her," she murmured; "that will be something to live for."
I did not know what reply to make to this. Everything which this girl said and did was so unexpected and so convincing in its sincerity, I felt moved by her even against my better judgment. I pitied her and yet I dared not urge her on to speak, lest I should fail in my task of making her well. I therefore confined myself to a few haphazard expressions of sympathy and encouragement, and left her in the hands of the nurse.
Next day Mr. Gryce called.
"Your patient is better," said he.
"Much better," was my cheerful reply. "This afternoon she will be able to leave the house."
"Very good; have her down at half-past three and I will be in front with a carriage."
"I dread it," I cried; "but I will have her there."
"You are beginning to like her, Miss Butterworth. Take care! You will lose your head if your sympathies become engaged."