"The clouds have disappeared, and the sun is shining," he repeated softly; "for you are here. Oh, my sweet! what it is to see you again!"
"You are really feeling better?" she asked.
"Ever so much stronger," he assured her, "and the sight of you will complete the cure. I ought to be well shaken for giving you such a lot of trouble and anxiety, oughtn't I? But I'll make up for it, my darling; I promise I will. Give me just a little time to get quite well and strong; I shall not be a bother for long. Old Rob says he can make a job of me. Then you shall see what care I will take of you. You are looking thinner. It must have been a dull time for you, but we'll make up for it all by and by."
"You mustn't think of anything except getting well again," she said.
"You will stay here?" he asked, with a note of anxiety in his voice.
"The doctor said I might stay a few minutes."
"I don't mean that—I mean, you will stay at Bessacre."
"Certainly I will stay just as long as you want me," she answered quickly.
He leaned back on his pillows. "I was so afraid that you might not be able to stay—that you might have some other engagement. I had an idea that you were going to Scotland. It is sweet of you to stay with me. I must confess that the thought of losing you was troubling me."
"I have no intention of going to Scotland, I am going to stay here."