"Debby says you must not sit up at all, Robert!" she said.
"And what do you say, my lady?" he asked, devouring her radiant dark face with his eyes.
"I say so, too!" she answered, laughing softly.
"Why, my lady?" he persisted.
"Because it will hinder you getting well, Silly!" she replied, touching his hair with cool fingers.
"What matter about a 'damned Tory' getting well?" he began, being very weak and foolish. But the slim hand sweetly closed his mouth.
"How did you get here—to me?" Barbara asked, changing the subject.
He smiled up at her.
"We charged through the rebels!" he explained, frankly. "We cut them down, and scattered them, and chased them till we were within the enemy's lines. Then we could not get back. They surrounded us. They overwhelmed us. We were annihilated. I escaped, I shall never know how, hatless and horseless, as you found me, my lady, I tried to get back to my regiment. It was no use. Then, somehow, a spirit in my feet led me back here, to you. I just escaped capture a score of times. I had nothing to eat for days, save roots and leaves. I remember coming to the shore of the dear lake, and straining my eyes across it, to see the chimneys of the house where my love lay. Then I saw no more, knew no more, till I saw my love herself in very truth, leaning her face over mine. And I thought I was in heaven, my lady."
"You still love me, Robert, after the hideous way I treated you?" questioned Barbara, her voice a little tremulous.