Out of her ordeal she emerged, brought to a sense of the immediate present by hearing her name called. She stood up. But even through her misery she was conscious of the amazing strength of her grandfather's voice.
She ran to him.
A magnetic current of happiness had penetrated his paralyzed frame, for when she leaned over him, he addressed her with a tongue no longer trammelled.
"I told ye he'd come back," he exulted. "I heared ye when ye both come in and I knew it was him. Now ain't ye got anything to tell me, Rachel?" And he smiled up at her slyly.
"I don't know what you mean, Grandfather," she said.
"I mean—What have ye two been talkin' about in t'other room?" he broke off. "I know it was about somethin' important; and he don't deny it," with a gesture toward Simon.
Simon Hart stood with one hand resting on the table. Rachel avoided his glance.
"He said perhaps you'd tell me," urged the old man. "Now, what is it?"
She was silent.
"What is it?" he repeated. "Did he ask you to marry him?" and he plucked at her hand.