"It's all good news, Mary. We found exactly the state of affairs that I expected. If he follows the other case on record, it will not be long till he is as strong and husky and active as this young rascal here."
He gave Phil's shoulder an affectionate grip. Mary looked up at him trying to comprehend all she had heard.
"Strong—and husky and active—as Phil?" she repeated in dull wonder. "You can't mean that he—will ever be able—to walk?"
The question came in dry, sobbing gasps.
"Yes, just that."
She stood up. The news was so stupendous, the reaction so great that everything turned black. She sat down again giddily. The sympathetic faces, the trees, everything seemed to be whirling around and around. She heard Phil's voice, but it sounded as if it were miles away.
"Brace up, little Vicar! You're surely not going limp now, just when fortune is making such a tremendous turn in your favor."
"No," she said, shaking herself and fighting off the faintness. Such a feeling had never assailed her before, and she did not know what to make of it. "You see, nobody ever told me—I didn't know such a heavenly thing was possible! I can't believe it yet. Oh, are you sure?"
She looked up into the strong, calm face of the gray-haired old surgeon, as if his answer meant life or death.