"Mr. Hinton, have you no one you care for? Why do you run this risk."
"I have some one I care for very much indeed; but I run no risk. I had scarlet fever long ago. In any case I have no fear of infection. Now I know your husband is out; let me go upstairs and help you bring down the little fellow."
"God bless you," said the wife and mother. Her eyes were beautiful as she raised them to the face of this good Samaritan.
The little patient was moved to the large and comfortable room, and Hinton found himself in the position of good angel to this poor family. He had never supposed himself capable of taking such a post with regard to any one; but the thing seemed thrust upon him. An obvious duty had come into his life, and he never even for the briefest instant dreamed of shirking it. He was a man without physical fear. The hardships of life, the roughing of poverty were not worth a passing thought of annoyance; but there was one little act of self-denial which he must now exercise; and it is to be owned that he felt it with a heart-pang. He had never told Charlotte that he was going to live in the house with Mrs. Home. He had not meant to keep this fact a secret from her, but there was still a soreness over him when he thought of this young woman which prevented her name coming readily to his lips. On this first night in his new abode he sat down to write to his promised wife; but neither now did he give his address, nor tell his landlady's name. He had an obvious reason, however, now for his conduct.
This was what Charlotte received from her lover on the following morning,—
"My Darling,—Such a strange thing has happened; but one which, thank God, as far as I am concerned, need not cause you the least alarm. I moved from my old lodgings to-day and went a little further into the country. I had just unpacked my belongings and was expecting some tea, for I was hot and thirsty, when my landlady came in and told me that her eldest child is taken very ill with scarlet fever. She has other children, and fears the infection will spread. She is a very poor woman, but is one of those who in their bearing and manner, you, Charlotte, would call noble. She wanted me to leave at once, but this, Charlotte, I could not do. I am staying here, and will give her what little help lies in my power. You know there is no fear for me, for I had the complaint long ago. But, dearest, there is just one thing that is hard. Until this little child is better, I must not see you. You have not had this fever, Charlotte, and for you, for my own sake, and your father's sake, I must run no risk. I will write to you every day, or as much oftener as you wish, for I can disinfect my paper; but I will not go to Prince's Gate at present."
"Ever, my own true love,
"Yours most faithfully,
"John Hinton."
This letter was posted that very night, but Hinton did not put his new address on it; he meant Charlotte now for prudential reasons to write to his chambers. He returned to his lodgings, and for many weary and anxious nights to come shared their watch with Mr. and Mrs. Home. So quietly, so absolutely had this young man stepped into his office, that the father and mother did not think of refusing his services. He was a good nurse, as truly tender-hearted and brave men almost always are. The sick child liked his touch. The knowledge of his presence was pleasant. When nothing else soothed him, he would lie quiet if Hinton held his little hot hand in his.
One evening, opening his bright feverish eyes, he fixed them full on Hinton's face and said slowly and earnestly,—