A supreme agony moved her in this appeal. He feebly tried to check her with his hand, but she nestled her cheek close against his and pleaded,—
“Do you understand that you have made me worthy of every kind regard that so noble a man could have for a woman? Can you believe, friend of my life, that you have made me such a woman as would be perfect in your eyes?”
He made no reply, and, still holding him in her arms, she raised her head to look into his face. He was regarding her with a strange and distant wistfulness, and there shone in his eyes a pale, far light that stretched through infinite space. A faint smile played upon his lips, the feeble pressure of his hand closed upon hers.
“You will not leave me, will you?” she pleaded. “You will come back to health, my friend. You will teach me, you will guide me. The world will be bright and beautiful, for all our suffering has been borne. We belong each to the other, my friend, in friendship, trust, and sympathy.”
Still he smiled as he looked into her face; and as he smiled, and she saw the strange, far light that shone from so inconceivable a distance in the awful depths of his eyes, her eager heart found a bridge of glass spanning the gulf between them. Then he sighed deeply, and his eyes rolled upward. She sprang from the bed to her feet.
“Dr. Malbone!” she cried, in a suppressed voice, “quick! he has fainted!”
The physician, who had stepped a little way apart, came forward and looked down into the still face of his friend. Then he glanced up at the young woman, who was trembling with eager impatience.
“There is nothing to do,” sadly replied Dr. Malbone; then he passed round the bed, took the young woman gently by the arm, and, in a kind voice, said, “Come with me.”
She went with him, wondering, and looking over her shoulder toward the bed. He led her into an adjoining room, closed the door, and placed a chair for her.
“No, Dr. Malbone!” she protested. “How can I, when he needs us both so much? Hurry back to him; I will stay here if you wish.”