"Oh, Ray, what is it? Are you sick? Let me help you into the house. Fortunately, Edward is within."
She helped him up the steps, into the little sitting room; and, with a weary sigh, he sank down upon a sofa. "It is nothing but sheer exhaustion," he said to her, with a faint smile. "A few days' rest, and your nursing, will make a new man of me."
Just then Edward came hastily in, having heard Daisy's cry of alarm. He at once ordered Ray to his room, and to bed. "Not but what we shall pull you through all right, Ray," he said. "But there is no place like a bed for solid rest; and that you have got to take, with something to tone up your system. A day or two of quietness now may save you a long sickness."
Ray submitted to his directions, for his own good sense confirmed them; and a half hour later he was sleeping as soundly as a child. For three days Edward kept him in bed, while Daisy brought him the most appetizing and nourishing food, prepared by her own hands. His vigorous constitution reasserted itself; and on the fourth day he descended to the sitting room quite like himself. But Daisy would not permit him even yet to exert himself to any great extent, and insisted that he should frequently lie down upon the lounge she had brought into the sitting room, and upon which she had arranged a profusion of pillows.
He lay there in the afternoon, while she sat in a low rocker by his side, and he was telling her of the great harvest of souls that had been gathered in at Easton, when Edward drove up to the door in a light buggy, having with him Miss Sadye Greenough, the daughter of Mr. Greenough, principal of the Afton Graded School. Hitching the horse, he assisted Miss Sadye to alight, and the two came in where Ray and Daisy were.
The two girls greeted each other as old friends and schoolmates always do, and Edward placed another rocker for Miss Sadye beside Daisy's, while he sat down on the lounge at Ray's feet. Ray had risen to greet Miss Greenough, for she was an old school friend of his also; but, at the earnest solicitation of all, had resumed his position on the pillows.
"Ray," said Edward, laying his hand on his old chum's, "I have a little business with you and Daisy; and as Sadye is interested in it also, I brought her along with me. You have, I expect, had some idea that I was a little partial in my feelings toward Sadye; and a few weeks ago, as she may have written you, I found she cared a little something about me. She has even promised to become my wife next month. But she is blushing so, I shall have to stop all that talk, and come directly to the proposition we have to make. It is this: instead of setting up a separate establishment of our own, we will come here. Sadye will take the place of Daisy at the head of the household affairs, and in the care of mother. This will leave Daisy free. You can be married when we are, and in October she can go with you to the mission field. What do you say?"
Ray sat upright, and grasped Edward's hand. "God bless you, Ned," he exclaimed, "for thinking of this, even if it is not practicable." And he looked wistfully over at Daisy.
A sudden hope had come into her heart; her eyes danced with joy; but controlling herself she turned to Sadye, saying: "I have no right to ask this of you. It would put heavy burdens upon you, such as you have not been accustomed to, and it would be selfish of me to allow it."
"Why?" said Sadye, low and earnestly. "She will be my mother as well as yours. She has a good nurse, and there is a good girl in the house. My duties cannot be excessive, and I certainly will do all I can to fill your exact place. This is my own thought, not Edward's. It is doing by you as I would be done by; as I know you would do by me if our places were reversed. I shall love to do it. Then I too love Jesus; and may I not make the little sacrifice this involves to let you go with the one of your choice to those heathen lands? Thus while at home may I not, indirectly at least, help on the Master's work abroad?"