He was up in a moment, with much of his old vigour and a swiftness that showed him rapidly recovering from his illness of a fortnight before.
"Yes," he answered her, smiling. "Duty first,—but I've finished at last. What is it?"
"I thought I'd come and tell you something, Hector—a splendid surprise. Dr. Quick told it me in confidence and really, though it's a shame to give it away, I'm so proud that I just can't keep it to myself any longer."
"Oh?" He was holding her hands now, towering over her and smiling down quietly upon her with his steel-grey eyes. "What is the surprise?"
"Hector, dear—when Mr. Northcote's tied the knot—tomorrow—there's going to be a huge reception. Everyone will be there—almost all the would-be revolutionists—blind fools, they understand you now—Oh, and lots of others! And they're to present you with an address and a wonderful gift—there'll be thousands of them—Hector! Isn't it glorious?"
"I don't want their presents, Frances—when I have you. I just did—what it was my duty to do. It's you I want!"
He lifted her lips to his. She ran a hand tenderly over the grey hair.
"'Your duty—that's all!'—'You only want me!' Hector, that's so like you," she whispered. "That is you—my splendid Spirit-of-Iron!"
THE END