“Poor fellow!” She looked so bright, so sisterly, so helpful, that the poor, strangely circumstanced young man felt his heart go out to her in thanks. He never knew what prompted him to do it, but he leaned forward and kissed her upon the cheek. She looked up, frightened; but the expression in his eyes reassured her and the bright tears sprang to her own.
And when he went into the room where Mary sat he thought she looked whiter than usual.
“Hello!” he cried gladly, “Yer awake, eh?” He took her slim hand in his own strong, rough one, and it was trembling. She looked into his face strangely; for her visitors had been many since her illness and she had heard things of which she had never spoken.
“D’ye feel worse?” asked he anxiously.
“No! Only a little faint,” she answered.
And from that day her failure was more rapid; from that day her patience, her gentleness was more marked; from that day, if the truth be known, she grew anxious to die.
Chapter XIV
“Sweet came the hallowed chiming,
Of the Sabbath bell,
Borne on the morning breezes,