“Why was not I told?”
“That was my doing. I felt that if you knew you would dissuade me. But you can’t now, for in two days I shall be gone!”
“Was Randolph willing to keep a secret from me—about you?” asked Monica, slowly.
“No, he didn’t like it. He wanted you to be told; but I wouldn’t have it, and he gave in. I wanted to tell you myself when everything was fixed. Can you believe I am really going?”
“No, I can’t. Do you want to go, Arthur—to leave Trevlyn?”
“I want to get well,” he answered, eagerly. “If you had been lying on your back for years, Monica, you would understand.”
“I do understand,” answered Monica, clasping her hands. “Only—only——”
“Oh! yes, I know all that. It won’t be pleasant. But I’d do more for a good chance of getting well. So now it’s all settled, and I’m off the day after to-morrow!”
“You’ve not given me much time for my preparations.”