Nelly, trembling, took away his tray and her own, and then knelt down again beside him. She kissed his forehead, and tried to divert his thoughts by asking him if he was warm enough. His hands were very cold. Should she make up the fire?
'Oh, no,—it's all right. But wasn't it strange? Suddenly, I seemed to be looking at her—quite close—and she at me. And I was worried because I had seen her more distinctly than I could remember you. Come nearer—put your dear head against me. Oh, if I could only hold you, as I used to!'
There was silence a little. But the wine had flushed him, and when the bloodless lids lifted again, there was more life in the eyes.
'Nelly, poor darling, have you been very lonely?—Were the Farrells kind to you?'
'Yes, George, very kind. They did everything—everything they could.'
'Sir William promised me'—he said, gratefully. 'And where have you been all the time? At Rydal?'
'No. I was ill—after the news came——'
'Poor Nelly!'
'And Sir William lent us one of his farms—near his cottage—do you remember?'
'A little. That was kind of him—very kind. Nelly—I want to send him a message——'