She was bending over him with a steaming cup of coffee when Edwin Dell slowly opened his eyes.
“Am I in Heaven?” he asked, faintly.
“Gracious sakes, no,” said Mary in her kind, contralto voice. “What makes you think so?”
“Because you look like an angel,” he answered.
Love was born in that minute.
Came spring to the world, and to Granville, and it brought back the color to the cheeks of Edwin Dell. He was strong enough to help Mary with the spring cleaning. They talked.
One evening, as the sun was sinking to rest in a cloudy bed of strawberries and oranges, Mary said:
“Edwin, let’s take a little walk.”
They walked together through the spring-scented eventide; on the peach trees blossoms were burgeoning; the vesper songs of mating birds could be heard.
“Let’s sit down with our backs to the silo,” suggested Mary. They sat. She turned her great, gray, honest eyes to him.