Averil looked wistfully after him, as if he were wanted to complete full felicity even in Leonard's presence. How little would they once have thought that her first words to her brother would be, 'Oh, was there ever any one like him?'
'We owe it all to him,' said Leonard.
'So kind,' added Averil, 'not to be vexed, though he dreaded our meeting so much; and you see I could not grieve him by making a fuss. But this is nice!' she added, with a sigh going far beyond the effect of the homely word.
'You are better. Ella said so.'
'I am feeling well to-night. Come, let me look at you, and learn your face.'
He knelt down beside her, and she stroked back the hair, which had fulfilled his wish that she should find it as long, though much darker than of old. Posture and action recalled that meeting, when her couch had been his prison bed, and the cold white prison walls had frowned on them; yet even in the rosy light of the cheerful room there was on them the solemnity of an approaching doom.
'Where is the old face?' Averil said. 'You look as you did in the fever. Your smile brings back something of yourself. But, oh, those hollow eyes!'
'Count Ugolino is Dr. May's name for me: but, indeed, Ave, I have tried to fatten for your inspection.'
'It is not thinness,' she said, 'but I had carried about with me the bright daring open face of my own boy. I shall learn to like this better now.'
'Nay, it is you and Ella that are changed. O, Ave, you never let me know what a place you were in.'