Morris hesitated a moment, and then said:
"Marian Hazelton—she who took care of baby."
"I know—yes," Wilford said, having no suspicion as to who was the woman standing now just outside his door, and listening, with a throbbing heart, to his rational questions.
In all their vigils held together no sign had ever passed from Dr. Grant to Marian that he knew her, but he had waited anxiously for this moment, knowing well that in his present state Wilford must not be shocked, as a sight of Marian would shock him. He knew she was outside the door, and as Wilford turned his head upon the pillow, he went to her, and leading her to a safe distance, said softly:
"His reason has returned."
"And my services, then, are ended," Marian rejoined, looking him steadily in the face, but not in the least prepared for his affirmative question:
"You are Genevra Lambert?"
There was a low, gasping sound, and Marian staggered forward a step or two, then steadying herself, she said:
"And if I am, it surely is not best for him to see me. You would not advise it?"
She looked wistfully at Morris, the great desire to be recognized, to be spoken to kindly by the man who once had been her husband overmastering for a moment all her prudence.