“Was I so badly wounded then?” she asked, as she half raised her head and looked at them.
“Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Graham, who had hardly yet got over the scare which the recent event had given her. “But you are going to get well now and we will be so happy.”
“Yes, Enola,” said Onrai, as he stepped up and took the poor bruised hand, “happiness has been unknown to us since you were wounded, but we know now that you will get well, and our happiness has returned,” and he raised her hand to his lips.
CHAPTER XXV.
“HE WILL MARRY YOU.”
One week had now passed and Enola had almost entirely recovered. Her fever had lasted only a day or two and with Mr. Bruce’s prescriptions and treatment, and Mrs. Graham’s and Nellie’s gentle care she mended rapidly. Her wounds, too, had healed so quickly, the bandages had been discontinued and altogether Enola was nearly in as good a condition as before her fateful ride.
“Why, Enola,” said Mr. Graham, “you look as bright and happy as ever, this beautiful morning, and I prescribe a good long walk for you in the garden.”
“And I feel quite as well as usual, Uncle,” answered Enola. “My arms and limbs are a little stiff yet, but outside of that I am all right and will gladly accept your invitation. Ah, the morning is beautiful, glorious,” she continued, as they stepped to the terrace. “Uncle, have you noticed that the sun seems to be brighter, the air purer, that all verdure is greener, that the waters of the lake and river bluer, that the birds’ notes clearer and their plumage gayer, that all nature seems brighter and happier here than in the civilized world?”
“Ah, that is quite a speech, Enola,” answered Mr. Graham, smiling; “but seriously, I have noticed all this many times, and I have long ago ceased wondering at the happiness and contentment of the people, for they could hardly be aught else with such environments.”
“Yes, they are truly a happy lot,” said Enola, “yet how human. For centuries, more than likely, their ancestors had never known such words as fear and superstition and they themselves could hardly have defined the meaning of these words, yet one little word set them wondering and just a word more and a little act on the part of their King made them slaves to superstitious fears.”
“Yes, that is so,” said Mr. Graham, “I am very much afraid we are all alike after all.”