"I do not know, my love. It is a long time since we have heard from David. But thee must lie down. Thee is not strong enough to talk."
She did not need to force her now. The muscles relaxed, and Pepeeta sank back upon her pillow, sobbing like a little child, while Dorothea stroked her forehead. The soothing touch of her hand and her gentle presence calmed the agitated and disappointed heart. The sobs became less frequent, the tears ceased to flow, and sleep, coming like a benediction, brought the balm of oblivion.
The boy, with his great brown eyes, looked wonderingly from the face of the invalid to that of his mother, who sat silently weaving in her imagination the story of this life, from the few strands which she had seized in this brief and broken conversation.
The next morning when Pepeeta awakened she was not only rested and refreshed by this natural sleep, but was restored to the full possession of her consciousness and her memory.
When Dorothea came in from her morning duties to see how her patient fared, she was startled by the change, for the invalid had recovered that calm self-possession which she had lost before beginning her journey, and now that her uncertainty was ended had already begun to face disappointment with fortitude and resolution.
The nurse seated herself by the patient, who said humbly:
"May I talk now?"
"If thee feels strong enough and can do it without exciting thyself, thee may. But if thee cannot, thee had better wait a little longer. Thee is very weak."
"But I am much better, am I not?"
"Yes, thee is much better, but thee is far from well."