"We shall know the best or worst in five minutes. You have done your utmost, doctor, but I'll get up and annihilate you with your own bottles if you give me good advice now," he said, and the surgeon, seeing protests were useless, laughed.
Mrs. Savine said nothing. She was in a state of nervous tension, too, and merely laid her hand on the patient, restrainingly, as he strove with small success to raise himself a little. Meantime the horse came nearer, its bridle dripping with flakes of spume. Its rider was sprinkled with snow and her skirt was besmeared with lather, but she came on at a gallop until she reined in the panting horse beneath the window, and flinging one arm aloft sat in the saddle with her flushed face turned towards the watchers. No bearer of good tidings ever appeared more beautiful to an anxious man.
"It is triumph!" she cried.
"Thank God!" answered Mrs. Savine, who slipped quietly from the room.
Little time elapsed before Helen entered the room where Geoffrey impatiently waited for her, but brief as it was, there was no sign of hurried travel about her. Her apparel was fresh and dainty, and there was even a flower from Mexico at her belt. She went straight to Geoffrey and bent over him.
"All has gone well—better, I understand, than you even hoped for, and you have done a great thing, Geoffrey," she said. "You have saved me my inheritance—which is of small importance—and—I know all now—my father's honor. You have repaid him tenfold, and gratified his heart's desire."
"Then I am thankful," answered Geoffrey very quietly. He lay still a moment looking at her with a great longing in his eyes. Helen was very beautiful, more beautiful even than usual, it seemed to him. He did not guess that she had an offering to make, and for the sake of the man at whose feet she would lay it, would not even so far as trifles went, depreciate the gift, hence her careful attire.
Helen's eyes fell beneath his gaze. She discerned what he was thinking, and, though the words "heart's desire" were accidental, there was no mistaking the suggestion. She said slowly:
"I have been unjust, proud and willful—and I am going to do full penance. You have surely the gift of prophecy. Do you remember your last bold prediction?"
Geoffrey's lip twitched. He strove to raise himself that he might see the speaker more clearly, and, still almost helpless in his bandages, slipped back again. Helen slipped her hand into his.