"Mary!" he said. "Mary!"
She came to him, seeing nothing in the room but the man.
"Oh, Jim, you are human after all. You are, you are!"
The astonished nurse saw a woman folded in a man's arms and a woman crying happily on a man's shoulders.
Drusilla watched them for a moment and then went to the door, where Daphne was waiting. The girl took Drusilla's hand excitedly.
"It worked, didn't it, Miss Doane; it worked!"
They waited in Drusilla's room for quite a while before two shamefaced but happy looking people appeared, hand in hand. Mr. Thornton went up to Drusilla and took her hand in both his own.
"Miss Doane," he said enthusiastically, "start all the asylums—red, black, or yellow—that you want. Take the whole African race if you want to, and I'll see that you get cooks enough for them."
Mary Deane laughed—the laugh of a happy woman who has come into her own.
"And, Miss Doane," she added, "we'll do better than that. Rastus isn't your colored baby any more. He's Jim's and mine. We're going to see to his education, for if it hadn't been for Rastus—well—perhaps there'd never have been a happy Mary."