For the sick woman was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressing herself in trembling haste. She turned upon the alarmed girl, the fire of resolution in her eyes.
"I'm going to get up," she answered firmly. "I ain't going to die. That child heard every word I said."
"But, Arabella," began the bewildered nurse, "I——" She stopped, unable to divine the connection between Lorry's eavesdropping and this sudden determination to live. "Don't be frightened. I'll make her promise she won't tell."
"She might keep her word, an' she mightn't; an' if Susan an' Bella was to find out I'd died because he never came back an' left me an old maid, I couldn't rest in my grave. I jist couldn't! An' she might let it out, Elsie, now mightn't she?"
Elsie paused a moment. She was about to reassure her, but checked herself. Evidently soothing was not what the invalid needed.
"Yes, Arabella," she said honestly, "she might."
CHAPTER XI
THE COMING OF ROSALIE
Silvery soft by the forest side,
Wine-red, yellow and rose,
The Wizard of Autumn, faint-blue eyed,
Swinging his censer, goes.
—ABCHIBALD LAMPMAN.