“Well—perhaps not, Miss,” said the young soldier, painfully suppressing the truth to avoid wounding her.
Again Elfie’s gaze was fixed upon the fallen face of her lover, who opened his eyes and recognized her with a wan smile.
“Thank you for coming, my love. I knew you would come to me. They told me, when I asked for you, that you came yesterday, but that they could not let you stay to see me. I knew that you would come again to-day, Elfie,” he said, feebly holding out his hand to her.
“Oh! Albert, dear, my heart bleeds for you,” she cried, trying to keep back her rising tears.
“You know my fate, Elfie?”
“Oh no, dear; none but the Omniscient can know that. But I feel sure, if you will only keep quiet and not let—that happen again, you will get well. Come, Albert, I will not excite myself or you either. But I will not leave you again, dear. I will stay with you until—until you get well. See!” she said, drawing from her pocket the wedding ring that she had once indignantly torn from her finger, but still refrained from destroying. “See, I put on your ring—I put it on now of my own accord, willingly, gladly, so that I may stay and nurse you! See!”
“Elfie—darling! stop! mind what you are about! Do not compromise yourself! I may live!” said the almost dying man, laying his feeble hand on hers.
“Heaven grant that you may! But now see!” she said, slipping the ring firmly upon her finger, and adding—“I will never leave you more, Albert, never, never.”
“Ah, my poor girl! I always knew you loved your ‘traitor,’ although you hated his treason!” exclaimed Goldsborough, feebly raising the ringed hand, and pressing it to his lips.
At that moment the surgeon, in making his rounds, came up to Goldsborough’s bed. At a short distance he was followed by Miss Rosenthal and one of the nurses in close consultation.