"You are so kind!" Janet whispered. "Tell me, am I in a hospital? I do not remember coming here."
"No, you were so ill. This is your brother's house, and I am his wife, Aimée."
"And my husband—is dead," Janet said slowly.
"Not he. What made you think that? He will be here in a day or two, and will tell you all about it himself, and why he could not come sooner."
Janet took the speaker's hand, and held it with more strength than she looked capable of.
"You are sure—you do not say this only to quiet me?"
"No, my dear, indeed I would not be so cruel. Your Fred is in good health, and will be here very soon now."
Janet closed her eyes and fell asleep; indeed, it seemed to her that she did nothing but sleep until one day she awoke to find Fred sitting beside her, watching for the opening of her eyes.
