“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him she was willing, but I hadn’t made up my mind.”
“Yes,” said Mamie, reflectively, looking sternly at his laughing face, “I’ll certainly have to learn telegraphy.”
“There’s only three words you need know,” said Allan. “Here they are,” and, finger on key, he clicked off slowly, .. — .. ...-. .. .. . . ..-
“And what do they mean?”
“‘I love you,’” he answered.
“I think I like them better spoken,” said Mamie; “and I suppose I’ll have to forgive you.”
Joy is a great restorer, and the next twenty-four hours worked a big improvement in Allan’s condition. The wound on his head was healing nicely, and he had almost recovered from the weakness which the loss of blood had occasioned. A broken collar-bone is at no time a very dangerous injury, and in the case of this young and vigorous fellow it had already begun to knit, though, of course, his shoulder would stay in splints for a fortnight yet. From the general shock which he had suffered, his strong young body rallied quickly, and on the afternoon of the day following the conversation just recorded, the doctor announced that he might leave his bed and sit up a while.
“And to-morrow, doctor,” Allan added, “I’m going down to the office.”