Freely, gladly he had sacrificed himself in atonement for the wrong he had unwittingly done Royall Sherwood in a moment of jealous rage and madness.
Something seemed to snap asunder in Annette’s tortured heart, and she astonished the good old doctor by sinking back unconscious in her chair.
“Good gracious, what a nervous little thing!” he ejaculated, hastening to apply restoratives; and when she opened her eyes presently he exclaimed:
“Tut, tut! You are too tender-hearted.”
“Oh, you do not know—you do not understand,” shuddered Annette, leaning her little dark head against the windowpane.
At that moment the rumble of carriage wheels stopping at the gate drew her attention down into the street.
She started in wonder, and swept her hand across her eyes, as if to clear their vision, exclaiming:
“I must be dreaming! This cannot be reality!”
The old doctor was looking, too, and he blurted out, in amazement:
“Bless my heart! If that is not Royall Sherwood stepping out of the carriage, too, with two strong legs as limber as mine. It’s a miracle!”