“Since the day you were taken ill,” replied Kate, at the same time encircling his shoulders with one arm, and raising him, while with the other hand she placed a glass to his lips.
Whether the medicine were a potent sedative, or whether her gentler touch had a soothing effect, or whether both these influences acted upon him, I cannot tell; but certainly the nervous excitement, just raised by the discovery of her presence, subsided into perfect calmness, and he lay with his hand folded in Catherine’s, until he fell asleep.
When he awoke again it was sunrise, and his room looked cheerful, and the family physician and Frank Fairfax stood at his bedside, with their congratulations on his convalescence. And while they staid, his eyes were roving restlessly around the room, in search of some one else.
And when they went away, Catherine entered, bringing cold water, and came and sponged his head and hands. And then she went out, and returned with his light breakfast. She sat upon the bed, supporting his head and shoulders upon her bosom while he ate. At last—
“Take it all away, dearest Kate,” he said, “and sit where I can see you. It is you who are my restorative.”
When the service was removed, and his pillows were arranged, and he was comfortably laid back upon them again, he said—
“Dearest Kate, do you know that I know at last, how deeply you have been injured?”
She stooped down to him saying, softly—
“Please do not try to talk to-day. Yield to the inclination you have for sleep. It is so needful to you, and will prove so restorative. And to-morrow, when you are better, we can converse.”
He smiled upon her, and laid his hand in hers, and while she clasped it, fell asleep.