"He is well; he will tell thee in the morning of a plan he has. Go now to bed,—and Rose, to-morrow be sensible, be wise. Thou wert so noteworthy these three weeks ago, what has come to thee now?"
"Agapit, thou dost remember thy mother a very little, is it not so?"
"Yes, yes."
"Thou couldst part from her; but suppose she came back from the dead. Suppose thou couldst hear her voice in the hall, what wouldst thou do?"
"I would run to greet her," he said, rashly. "I would be mad with pleasure."
"That man was as one dead," she said, with an eloquent gesture towards the next room. "I did not think of seeing him again. How can I cease from joy?"
"Give me thy promise," he said, abruptly, "not to see him without me. Otherwise, thou mayst be prowling in the morning, when I oversleep myself, and thou wilt talk about me to this charming stranger."
"Agapit," she said, in amazement, "wouldst thou insult me?"
"No, little rabbit,—I would only prevent thee from insulting me."