The lamp had not been lighted, and only the firelight threw a flickering, uncertain glow over the two faces before her. But something in Mr. Ingram's attitude, in the very atmosphere of the warm, flower-scented room, made Waveney's heart beat with quick, sympathetic throbs.
"Oh, what is it?" she said, stumbling a little in her haste. But, as she put out her hands to save herself, Ingram caught them in his own.
"My little Samaritan," he said, affectionately, "do you know, I am going to be your brother. Will you wish me joy, dear!" And then in his airy, foreign fashion, Moritz lifted her hand to his lips.
"My brother!" gasped Waveney. Well, she had expected it. But, all the same, she felt a little giddy. Mollie's Prince had come, as she knew he would, and would carry Mollie away.
"Darling, come here," and Mollie stretched out her arms almost piteously. "Wave, why do you stand there, as though you were turned to stone? Don't you want me to be happy?" she whispered, as Waveney, at this appeal, knelt down beside her.
"Oh, Mollie!" returned poor Waveney, "I know that I ought to be glad, and I am glad. But"—with a sob that would not be kept back—"But—but, I have lost my old sweetheart."
"Never!" returned Mollie, energetically, and her arms were round her sister's neck as she spoke. "Wave, dear, you must not say such things. Nothing, nothing, can ever come between us, or make our love less. Kiss me, darling," she went on, "and promise me that you will never say that again." And then, as Waveney stooped over her, she whispered in her ear: "After all, I have found out the best way of thanking him."
Perhaps it was as well that Nurse Helena made her appearance at that moment with the lamp, and so broke up the agitated little group. Waveney got up, feeling rather guilty, when Nurse Helena commented somewhat severely on Mollie's flushed and tired face.
"There has been too much talking," she said, in her quiet, authoritative voice. "Miss Mollie must have her tea, and go upstairs and rest." And then she regarded Ingram rather suspiciously. Nevertheless, when she went out of the room there was an amused twinkle in the nurse's grey eyes.
When Ann brought up the tea-tray Waveney was assiduous in her attentions to Mollie and her fiancé. She chatted to Ingram in her old frank way. Mollie was to rest and listen to them; she was to enjoy her tea and the delicate tongue sandwiches that Nurse Helena had cut so carefully. But Nurse Helena was right, and there must be no more talking. And then she amused them both by retailing to them the corporal's odd speeches.