"Cheer up, Mister Robin!" she said. … "She is much better—she knows where she is now, bless her heart!—and she's glad to be at home. Let her alone—and if she 'as a good sleep she'll be a'most herself again in the morning. I'll leave my bedroom door open all night—an' I'll be lookin' in at 'er when she doesn't know it, watchin' her lovin' like for all I'm worth! … so don't ye worry, my lad!—there's a good God in Heaven an' it'll all come right!"
Robin took her rough work-worn hands and clasped them in his own.
"Bless you, you dear woman!" he said, huskily. "Do you really think so?
Will she be herself again?—our own dear little Innocent?"
"Of course she will!" and Priscilla blinked away the tears in her eyes—"An' you'll mebbe win 'er yet!—The Lord's ways are ever wonderful an' past findin' out—"
A clear voice calling from the staircase interrupted them.
"Priscilla! Robin!"
Running to answer the summons, they saw Innocent at the top of the stairs, a little vision of pale, smiling sweetness, in her white wool wrapper—her hair falling loose over her shoulders. She kissed her hands to them.
"Only to say good-night!" she said,—"I know just where I am now!—it was so foolish of me to forget! I am at home—and this is Briar Farm—and I feel almost well and—happy! Robin!"
He sprang up the stairs and, kneeling, took one of her hands and kissed it.
"That's my true knight!" she said. "Dear Robin! You deserve everything good—and if it will give you joy I will marry you!"