'That is just it. Why should it frighten her?' he returned, doubtfully. 'She has known me now for three years. I am no stranger to her; she has always been fond of me; she has told me so over and over again. No,' he continued, decidedly, 'I will not press her to come till she wishes it. I am no boy that cannot bear a disappointment. I ought to be used to loneliness by this time.'
'No, no; she shall not treat you so, Dr. Heriot. I will not have it. I—some one will prevent it; you shall not be left lonely for another year—you, so good and so unselfish.' But here Mildred's excitement failed; a curious numb feeling crept over her; she fancied she saw a surprised look on Dr. Heriot's face, that he uttered an exclamation of concern, and then she knew no more.
CHAPTER XXVII
COOP KERNAN HOLE
'The great and terrible Land
Of wilderness and drought
Lies in the shadows behind me—
For the Lord hath brought me out.
'The great and terrible river
I stood that night to view
Lies in the shadows before me—
But the Lord will bear me through.'—Poems by R. M.
Mildred felt a little giddy and confused when she opened her eyes.
'Is anything the matter? I suppose I have been a little faint; but it is nothing,' she said, feebly. Her head was on a soft pillow; her face was wet with cold, fragrant waters; Polly was hanging over her with a distressed expression; Dr. Heriot's hand was on her wrist.