"Oh, you shouldn't have done that, Richmond," said his wife, with an indulgent smile, "it's very cruel."
"I couldn't help it, my dear. They're sitting there together just like a pair of turtle-doves."
"Are they talking or reading?"
"She's reading to him, and he's looking at her. He never takes his eyes off her."
Mrs. Parsons sighed with a happy sadness.
"God is very good to us, Richmond."
James was surprised to find how happily he could spend his days with Mary. He was carried into the garden as soon as he got up, and remained there most of the day. Mary, as ever, was untiring in her devotion, thoughtful, anxious to obey his smallest whim.... He saw very soon the thoughts which were springing up again in the minds of his father and mother, intercepting the little significant glances which passed between them when Mary went away on some errand and he told her not to be long, when they exchanged gentle chaff, or she arranged the cushions under his head. The neighbours had asked to visit him, but this he resolutely declined, and appealed to Mary for protection.
"I'm quite happy alone here with you, and if anyone else comes I swear I'll fall ill again."
And with a little flush of pleasure and a smile, Mary answered that she would tell them all he was very grateful for their sympathy, but didn't feel strong enough to see them.
"I don't feel a bit grateful, really," he said.