“And you’d have died—you’d have become deaded for me?” said Ralph.
“Yes,” answered Harriet, patting the little brown hand. “But I am all right now,” she added; “I am only weak.”
“I love you like anything,” said Ralph.
“Of course you do, Ralph,” answered Harriet.
“There is nothing at all I wouldn’t do for you.”
Harriet longed to say: “Love me better than Robina, and I will have obtained my heart’s desire.” But she did not think the time for this speech had come yet; and as, in reality, notwithstanding her affection for Ralph, she found herself from time to time rather worried by his presence, she now requested him to leave her, and the little boy ran downstairs and out into the open air.
There the first person he saw was his father.
“Oh, dad!” said the boy, dancing up to his parent, and putting his little hand in his.
“Well Ralph, old man,” said the great traveller, lifting the boy to his shoulder, “and how are you this afternoon?”
“Werry well,” said Ralph, “nearly quite well,” he added.