“That's all right—and you needn't pull your hand away—you like me better than any one else, you've told me so; well, don't you see that's the beginning of really loving me?”
“But you wouldn't want to marry me at once?”
“Yes I would—right away—as soon as I am able to stir around!” said Charley promptly. “Don't you see the immediate necessity there is of my being in a position to care for you, Betty? I wasn't served this trick for nothing.”
“You must try not to worry, Charley.”
“But I shall—I expect it's going to retard my recovery,” said the young man gloomily. “I couldn't be worse off! Here I am flat on my back; I can't come to you or keep watch over you. Let me have some hope, dear—let me believe that you will marry me!”
She looked at him pityingly, and with a certain latent tenderness in her mood.
“Do you really care so much for me, Charley?”
“I love you, Betty!—I want you to say you will marry me as soon as I can stand by your side—you're not going?—I won't speak of this again if it annoys you, dear!” for she had risen.
“I must, Charley—”
“Oh, don't—well, then, if you will go, I want Carrington to ride back with you.”