As he lay there quietly musing, thinking, in fact, of the wife and babies up-stairs, and longing to go to them, particularly for a sight of her sweet face, a slender, girlish, white-robed figure glided in at the open door and to the side of his couch, and, almost ere he was aware of its vicinity, two arms were about his neck, two lips were pressed to his in a long kiss of ardent affection.
“Vi, my precious little wife! my darling!” he cried, clasping her close in an ecstasy of delight. “Can it be you, love? I did not know they would let you come to me yet. Ah, I hope you are not exerting yourself too much, glad as I am to see your dear face and have you in my arms again.”
“I couldn’t stay away another minute,” she said, repeating her caresses; “but Arthur gave his consent, and now they shan’t keep us apart any more.
“Oh, my darling, tell me, are you suffering? Ah, it was so hard to know you were in pain and not be able to come to you and at least try to give you some relief.”
“I think it has been pretty hard on us both,” he said, stroking her hair and gazing fondly into her eyes. “No, love, I don’t suffer now when I’m careful to obey orders, and not move the injured limb,” he added gayly, “here take this easy chair close by my side. Ah, I begin to think Max knew what he was about when he wheeled it up! I rather wondered at the time, but asked no questions.”
“Yes,” she said, leaning back in the chair and gazing on him with devouring eyes. “I let our Maxie into the secret—dear boy that he is—but charged him not to tell his father. I wanted to give you a surprise.”
“You succeeded. Ah, dearest, what a feast it is just to lie and look at you.”
“I echo your sentiments,” she returned, gayly, then sobering down, “My dear husband, I want you to promise me that you will never mount that horse again.”
“You are making common cause with Lulu against the poor fellow, I perceive,” he said, with a humorous smile.
“Poor fellow, indeed! he must be very vicious to throw so good a master, and that without the slightest provocation.”