"What a brute I'd be," thought Roger, with a pang, "if I had disappointed her."
"I'm so glad," said Barbara, giving him a cool, soft little hand. "I began to be afraid you couldn't come."
"I couldn't, just at first, but afterward it was all right. How are you?"
"I'm well, thank you, but I'm going to be made better to-morrow. That's why I wanted to see you to-night—it may be for the last time."
Her words struck him with chill foreboding. "What do you mean?"
"To-morrow, some doctors are coming down from the city, with two nurses and a few other things. They're going to see if I can't do without these." She indicated the crutches with an inclination of her golden head.
"Barbara," he gasped. "You mustn't. It's impossible."
"Nothing is impossible any more," she returned, serenely.
"That isn't what I meant. You mustn't be hurt."
A Wonderful World