"Father, I am here," she said, dropping on her knees beside him.
"My daughter!" he cried with a sob, while his arms held her in a close embrace. "My daughter! my daughter! God is good to us."
For a long time they remained silent with their arms about each other. Shock moved to the door. The girl was the first to master her emotions.
"Father," she said quietly, "the doctor tells me you are very ill."
"Yes, my daughter, very ill, but soon I shall be better. Soon quite well."
The girl lifted up her face quickly.
"Oh, father!" she cried joyfully, "do you think—" The look on her father's face checked her joy. She could not mistake its meaning. She threw herself with passionate sobs on the ground beside him.
"Yes, my daughter," went on the old man in a clear, steady voice, "soon I shall be well. My life has been for years a fevered dream, but the dream is past. I am about to awake. Dear child, I have spoiled your life. We have only a few precious hours left. Help me not to spoil these for you."
At once the girl sat up, wiped her eyes, and grew still.
"Yes, father, we will not lose them."