She was still in the bridal costume of Elsa, and she seemed to be waiting for permission to enter. I went outside to her, closing the door.
"Sir Cyril would not let me come," she said. "But I have escaped him. I was just wondering if I dared peep in. How is he?"
"He is getting on splendidly," I answered. "And he wants to have a little chat with you."
"And may he?"
"If you will promise to be very, very ordinary, and not to excite him."
"I promise," she said with earnestness.
"Remember," I added, "quite a little, tiny chat!"
She nodded and went in, I following. Upon catching sight of her, Alresca's face broke into an exquisite, sad smile. Then he gave his valet a glance, and the valet crept from the room. I, as in professional duty bound, remained. The most I could do was to retire as far from the couch, and pretend to busy myself with the rolling up of spare bandages.
"My poor Rosa," I heard Alresca begin.
The girl had dropped to her knees by his side, and taken his hand.