bending over him. "Do not keep me,
good-night."

He drew her toward him, but, laughing lightly and happily, she slipped
from his grasp and was gone.

When July returned, there was no one there but his patient, who did not
have so quiet a night as they had anticipated, being restless, tormented
apparently by troubled dreams.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"My only wickedness is that I love you; my only goodness, the
same."--ANONYMOUS.

"A Durwaish in his prayer said: 'O God, show kindness toward the
wicked; for on the good Thou hast already bestowed kindness enough
by having created them virtuous.'"--SAADI.

Anne passed the next day in the same state of vivid happiness. The mere
joy of the present was enough for her; she thought not as yet of the
future, of next month, next week, or even to-morrow. It sufficed that
they were there together, and free without wrong to love each other.
During the morning there came no second chance for their being alone,
and Heathcote grew irritated as the slow hours passed. Farmer Redd
esteemed it his duty, now that he was at home again, to entertain his
guest whenever, from his open eyes, he judged him ready for
conversation; and Mrs. Redd, July, and Diana seemed to have grown into
six persons at least, from their continuous appearances at the door. At
last, about five o'clock, Anne was left alone in the room, and his
impatient eyes immediately summoned her. Smiling at his irritation, she
sat down by the bedside and took up the fan.

"You need not do that," he said; "or rather, yes, do. It will keep you
here, at any rate. Where _have_ you been all day?"

They could talk in low tones unheard; but through the open door Mrs.
Redd and Diana were visible, taking down clothes from the line.
Heathcote watched them for a moment, and then looked at his nurse with
silent wistfulness.

"But it is a great happiness merely to be together," said Anne,
answering the look in words.

"Yes, I know it; but yet--Tell me, Anne, do you love me?"

"You know I do; in truth, you have told me you knew it more times than
was generous," she answered, almost gayly. She was fairly light-hearted
now with happiness.

"That is not what I want. Look at me and tell me; do, dear." He spoke
urgently, almost feverishly; a sombre restless light burned in his eyes.

And then she bent forward and looked at him with so much love that his
inmost heart was stirred. "I love you with all my heart,