"To-morrow I will set you free, my dear madam, and if you feel that I have done you a service, perhaps I may show you how to repay me." And with a warm pressure of her hand, and an unspoken good-night to Doris, he went away.
At the dawn of the morning Doris stood beside her mother when she awoke, and said lightly: "Whom do you want to see besides your grumpy old Doris, this bright morning?"
"Is he here? Ralph—my boy—has he come?" And his fond arms enwrapped her in joy too deep for words. She could not look at him enough—her bronzed and bearded baby boy.
Later on the doctor called, but he did not at once interrupt the mother and son. When at last he walked into the cheerful family room it was with Doris by his side.
"My dear Mrs. Hadyn," he began, "do you want to make me as grateful as you say you are? If so, only look!"
With the uncertain timidity she had not yet learned to overcome, she directed her once sightless eyes toward him. He stood with Doris clasped in his arms. The mother had not heeded his words of the previous evening, for they bore no hidden meaning to her. A light now broke over her features, while Ralph smilingly watched her.
"Doris, my child, how long have you loved this man?" were the only words she found to say.
"So long, mother, that I shall not try to remember."