"For Heaven's sake, go up to your room at once," he observed, uneasily.
"Here is the light."
I took it, and gaily ran up-stairs. I felt light with gladness—a new life flowed in my veins, a new vigour beat with my heart. I blessed God with every faculty of my being: as sincerely as if the miracle I had asked for, had been accomplished. I had soon changed my things, and went down very softly, not to waken Kate. The door of the back-parlour was ajar, and there I found Cornelius, standing by a newly-kindled fire. As I gently closed the door, I said, smiling:
"I have made no noise. Kate never woke—how is she?"
"She complains of a head-ache. The heat of the day, I suppose."
"Yes," I replied, sitting down, taking his hand, and making him sit down by me on a little couch which he had drawn before the fire. "Yes, every one was out this morning, when I called and found the house shut up. Oh, Cornelius! how I thought of that with terror and dismay, as I came along the lanes."
"The lanes!—you came by the lanes?" cried Cornelius, turning pale: "alone along that desolate road, where a cry for aid never could be heard! Daisy, how dare you do such a thing? How could they allow it?"
"Cornelius, who would be out on such a night to harm me? As to daring, I would have dared anything. Mrs. Brand remonstrated, and sent, I believe, a servant after me; but I outstripped him easily. Terror lent me her wings."
"I thought you felt no fear?"
"No fear of man, but a most sickening cowardly dread of fever. Oh, Cornelius! if I had found you ill, or in danger of death, what should I have done, what would have become of me?"
The mere thought was a torment that again sent the freezing blood to my heart. I shivered, and drew close to him.