Valentine left her cloak in the hall, and followed the old servant upstairs.
"Here's Mrs. Wyndham," said Helps, opening the door of the sick man's room, and then shutting it and going away himself.
"Here's Valentine," said Mrs. Wyndham, coming forward. "I did not know you were so ill, father."
He was dressed, and sitting in a chair. She went up to him and laid her hand gravely on his arm.
"You have come, Valentine, you have come. Kneel down by me. Let me look at you. Valentine, you have come."
"I have come."
Never did hungrier eyes look into hers.
"Kiss me."
She bent forward at once, and pressed a light kiss on his cheek.
"Don't do it again," he said.