"I have had that feeling once or twice in my life," said Ronald, musingly. "I remember a winter afternoon when I was waiting for a train in a strange town, and strolled into an old church to pass away the time. Some one was playing on the organ—a voluntary, perhaps—and the music came drifting along the empty aisles. I stood just inside the west door, and listened, trying to find out what it meant. But I could not tell."
"Let us put the guitar away now," I entreated, catching the tone of weariness in his voice. "You have been sitting up quite long enough, dear, and there is a bright fire in the next room. What a chilly spring it is! This evening is as cold as winter."
For a wonder he complied meekly with my request, and walked from the parlour into the bed-chamber with his arm round my shoulders. In a little while he was in a sound sleep, his head resting quietly on the pillow, while I moved gently about the room and put things in order for the night.
I was too tired to sit long over my needlework, although a piled up work-basket reminded me that there was plenty of mending to be done. But, sleepy as I really was, that mysterious melody was still haunting my brain, and I found myself trying to set words to it unawares. Only fragments of rhyme came to me; bits of verses never to be finished; and at last I endeavoured to forget the air altogether. Yet even in slumber it came back, and again I saw Monsieur Léon's thin face and brilliant eyes, and heard his parting blessing.
When the morning came, and I went into the parlour to get my husband's breakfast, there lay the guitar upon the sofa. And I almost started at the sight of it, for I had half persuaded myself that it was merely a thing of my dreams.
[CHAPTER VII.]
JARS.
IT almost seemed as if the guitar helped Ronald on to perfect recovery. As the spring days advanced, his strength increased, and Doctor Warstone's visits were discontinued. How much I missed those visits I never owned. I think the influence of that good man's strong nature and wise, cheerful words had sustained me unawares. And when I lost sight of the kind face, and ceased to hear the friendly voice, I became conscious of my own weakness.