Kate smiled at this, and laid her hand on his arm, while she bent over the pillow and looked tenderly into his eyes.
“O my darling Charley, you are disposed to jest about it; but I cannot tell you how my heart trembled this morning when I heard from Tom Whyte of what had happened. As we drove up to the fort, I thought how terrible it would have been if you had been killed; and then the happy days we have spent together rushed into my mind, and I thought of the willow creek where we used to fish for gold-eyes, and the spot in the woods where we have so often chased the little birds, and the lake in the prairies where we used to go in spring to watch the water-fowl sporting in the sunshine. When I recalled these things, Charley, and thought of you as dead, I felt as if I should die too. And when I came here and found that my fears were needless, that you were alive and safe, and almost well, I felt thankful—yes, very, very thankful—to God for sparing your life, my dear, dear Charley.” And Kate laid her head on his bosom and sobbed, when she thought of what might have been, as if her very heart would break.
Charley’s disposition to levity entirely vanished while his sister spoke; and twining his tough little arm round her neck, he pressed her fervently to his heart.
“Bless you, Kate,” he said at length. “I am indeed thankful to God, not only for sparing my life, but for giving me such a darling sister to live for. But now, Kate, tell me, what do you think of father’s determination to have me placed in the office here?”
“Indeed, I think it’s very hard. Oh, I do wish so much that I could do it for you,” said Kate, with a sigh.
“Do what for me?” asked Charley.
“Why, the office work,” said Kate.
“Tuts! fiddlesticks! But isn’t it, now, really a very hard case?”
“Indeed it is; but then, what can you do?”
“Do?” said Charley impatiently; “run away, to be sure.”