"South? Oh, and all this time—But that's past now—all the dreadful waiting and anxiety! Could you but know our delight when Mr. Griffith telegraphed that you were here!"
"What! Then you came because—"
"Yes, yes, to find you. Don't you see? We should have been here sooner, only the telegram was not delivered until after midnight, and I had to persuade Aunt Amice. She refused, until after I said I'd come anyway. But of course she doesn't know, even now. Oh, Tom! Tom!—to think you're over that dreadful attack and—"
"Attack?" he inquired.
"The one that started that night—through my fault—mine!"
"Your fault?" he repeated. "How on earth do you make that out?"
"I should have seen—understood! James had tried to explain; but I was overwrought. Not until you were going—But that is all past, dear! I've come to tell you that now you must let me help you. It is not right for you to fight alone—to refuse my aid, when I—when I—love you!"
"Jenny! You can't mean it? After that night—after what I did that night!"
"Yes," she whispered. "If you—if you'll forgive me."
"But—the drinking?"