“Read these poems until you are tired today—then sleep. I'll give you a good novel tomorrow and when you've read it, a volume of philosophy. When we climb the peaks, I'll give you a study of these rocks that will tell you the story of their birth, their life, and their coming death. We'll learn something of the birds and flowers next spring. We'll dream great dreams and think great thoughts—you and I—in these wonderful days and weeks and months which God shall give us together.”
She looked up at him through her tears:
“Oh, Doctor, you have not only saved a miserable life: you have saved my soul!”
CHAPTER XXVI. A SOUL IS BORN
It was more than a month after the experiment began before the Doctor ventured to hint of Jim's survival. He had waited patiently until Mary's strength had been fully restored and her mind filled with the new enthusiasm for motherhood. He could tell her now with little risk. And yet he ventured on the task with reluctance. He found her seated at her favorite window overlooking the deep blue valley of the Swannanoa, a volume of poetry in her lap.
He touched her shoulder and she smiled in cheerful response.
“You are content?” he asked.
“A strange peace is slowly stealing into my heart,” she responded reverently. “I shall learn to love life again when my baby comes to help me.”
“You remember your solemn promise?”