"Ah, I see you mean that he will die."
"No, we do not say he must die."
"Doctor Rowland, may I go to him? He was very dear to me."
"I know, child. I know--you may go to him," said the Radical doctor, turning into the drawing-room and putting his hand before his face.
She went upstairs with a slow step. When she entered the room, Cheyne said to her: "Come here, little May, and sit down beside me, and take my hand as you did awhile ago. I want to say something to you."
She did as he told her without saying a word. He went on:
"When you were last here you asked me if we should not be married soon, and I said I feared not. I have changed my opinion. I now think we shall be married very soon. At once."
She turned and looked at him. His face was turned towards the window, through which the red disc of the setting sun was clearly visible above the distant housetops. The ruddy light fell on his face and made him look more like his old self. She said nothing, but kept her piteous eyes on his face. He smiled.
"We are alone now, and I suppose we are not likely to be interrupted for a little time. In that little time, dearest, let us get married."
Still she said nothing. She thought his mind was wandering.