"Yes, Miss Lane." He was at her side in a moment.
"Do you know," she said, "I saw a white blackbird yesterday, just as clearly! It restores sight by its singing, only it was too late in the year for it to sing." There was a gentle irony in her voice, like the echo of her old bravery.
"Was it you who took me out of the water?" she asked, after a pause.
He shook his head. "I wasn't lucky enough. It was Felix."
"Last night," said Miss Lane, slowly, "I didn't want to be taken out. The water seemed just the place for me. But this morning I feel very much stronger—Oh, very strong indeed!" She lifted one hand, to show how powerful she was, but it fell back upon the rug that covered her.
The doctor nodded. He was wondering about Elbridge Allan.
"I can bear anything," she went on. "You see I have had to think it all through. You are going to tell me that there is no chance, are you not? There was but one in fifty, you said." It was not hope, but only a great patience, that shone softly in her eyes.
"If you have held your own for the last month, we'll call it one in forty-nine," he replied. "But you see I don't know yet whether you have held your own. I don't know anything to-day, Olivia, except that I love you. I have loved you ever since I sent you to London."
She moved her head wearily, as if she could not comprehend.
"Of course it's very stupid in me to say so this morning," he exclaimed, ruefully. "But I have waited too long already." He was still thinking of Elbridge Allan.