here might come
a--change."

"Stay, please," she asked him; "here."

He sat down by the open fire and she turned again to the face on the
pillow.

The night passed. Now and then the Sister moved noiselessly about, or
the doctor came to the bedside, lifted the inert hand, laid it down,
and went back to the fire.

Alexina moved from her chair to the window or to the fire and back
again. Now and again she knew that she must have slept a little, her
head against the table. So the night passed.

The square framed by the window sash was turning grey when there came
a movement, and the eyelids of the face on the pillow lifted. Harriet
was leaning over before the others, the nurse or doctor, got to the
bed, and must have been there when the eyes opened. She must have seen
consciousness of her presence in them, too, and possibly questioning,
for she spoke rapidly, eagerly, like one who had said the thing over
and over in readiness for the moment, though her voice shook. "You
said you loved me from your soul, and, living or dead, would go on
loving and wanting my love?"

There seemed no wonder in the voice replying, only content. There was
even the usual touch of humour in his reply. "And will go on wanting
your love," he said.

"But I am here to tell you how I love you," she returned.

The room was still, like death. Then in the man's voice: "Is this
pity, Harriet?"

Her voice hurried on. "And how, living or dead, I will go on loving
and wanting you."

It was no pity that trembled in her voice, it was passion. He moved.

After a time he spoke again. It was to call her name, to say it as to
himself. This time he knew it was love this woman was talking of, not
pity.

"I could not bear it that you should not know," she hurried on to tell
him. "I made them let me come to you."

"You know then, Harriet; they have told you?"

She was human; the sound that broke from her was the cry of a rent
soul.

The doctor, who had gone back to the mantel, crouched over the fire.
The Sister seemed to shrink into the shadows beyond the narrow bed.
Alexina clenched her hands, her head on her arms outstretched on the
table.

But Harriet had regained herself. "I am here to ask you something.
May I be married to you--now--at once, I mean?"

His response was not audible, only her reply. "Oh, surely you will.
For the rest of my life--to have been--you will give me this, won't
you?"

There was a quick movement from him, and a sou