"You shall know, Miss Vosburgh, and I hope you will come and see me, whatever happens. You will please excuse me now, for I cannot be away from Arthur at this time. I would not have seen any one but you."
At one o'clock in the morning there was a ring at Mr. Vosburgh's door. He opened it, and Merwyn stood there wrapped in his fur cloak. "Will you please give this note to Miss Vosburgh?" he said. "I think it contains words that will bring welcome relief and hope. I would not have disturbed you at this hour had I not seen your light burning;" and, before Mr. Vosburgh could reply, he lifted his hat and strode away.
The note ran as follows:
"MY DEAR MISS VOSBURGH:—Arthur became conscious a little before twelve. He was fearfully weak, and for a time his life appeared to flicker. I alone was permitted to be with him. After a while I whispered that you had been here. He smiled and soon fell into a quiet sleep. Our physician now gives us strong hopes.
"Sincerely and gratefully yours,
"CHARLOTTE STRAHAN."
Marian, who had been sleepless from thoughts more evenly divided between her friend and Merwyn than she would have admitted even to herself, handed the note to her father. Her face indicated both gladness and perplexity. He read and returned it with a smile.
"Papa," she said, "you have a man's straightforward common-sense. I am only a little half-girl and half-woman. Do you know, I almost fear that both Mrs. Strahan and Mr. Merwyn believe I am virtually engaged to Arthur."
"Their belief can't engage you," said her father, laughing. "Young Strahan will get well, thanks to you and Merwyn. Mrs. Strahan said that both were greatly changed. Merwyn certainly must have a hardy nature, for he improves under a steady frost."
"Papa!" cried Marian, with a vivid blush, "you are a deeper and more dangerous ally of Mr. Menvyn than mamma. I am on my guard against you both, and I shall retire at once before you begin a panegyric that will cease only when you find I am asleep."