“I have seen you somewhere before,” said Lingard—“in one of my dreams, I suppose.”
Then, sinking his voice to a whisper, he added:
“Do you know you came in close behind HER? She looked round and saw you, and vanished!”
Wingfold did not even try to guess at his meaning.
“Hush, my dear fellow!” he said; “I must not let you talk wildly, or the doctor might forbid my seeing you.”
“I am not talking a bit wildly,” returned Leopold. “I am as quiet as a mountain-top. Ah! when I AM wild—if you saw me then, you might say so!”
Wingfold sat down on the side of the bed, and took the thin, hot hand next him in his own firm, cool one.
“Come now,” he said, “tell me all about it. Or shall your sister tell me?—Come here, please, Miss Lingard.”
“No, no!” cried Leopold hastily; “I will tell you myself. My poor sister could not bear to tell it you. It would kill her.—But how am I to know you will not get up and walk out the moment you have a glimpse of what is coming?”
“I would as soon leave a child burning in the fire, and go out and shut the door,” said Wingfold.