udently absented
himself from the chances of infection, and the daughter has fled. The
sick man is attended only by a black servant and an ancient crone; so
that, if the poor major escapes with his life or without disfigurement,
pretty Mistress Bolton of Morristown need not be scandalized or
jealous."

V

The ancient crone alluded to in the last chapter had been standing
behind the window-curtains of that bedroom which had been Thankful
Blossom's in the weeks gone by. She did not move her head, but stood
looking demurely, after the manner of ancient crones, over the summer
landscape. For the summer had come before the tardy spring was scarce
gone, and the elms before the window no longer lisped, but were
eloquent in the softest zephyrs. There was the flash of birds in among
the bushes, the occasional droning of bees in and out the open window,
and a perpetually swinging censer of flower incense rising from below.
The farm had put on its gayest bridal raiment; and looking at the old
farm-house shadowed with foliage and green with creeping vines, it was
difficult to conceive that snow had ever lain on its porches, or
icicles swung from its mossy eaves.

"Thankful!" said a voice still tremulous with weakness.

The ancient crone turned, drew aside the curtains, and showed the sweet
face of Thankful Blossom, more beautiful even in its paleness.

"Come here, darling," repeated the voice.

Thankful stepped to the sofa whereon lay the convalescent Major Van
Zandt.

"Tell me, sweetheart," said the major, taking her hand in his, "when
you married me, as you told the chaplain, that you might have the right
to nurse me, did you never think that if death spared me I might be so
disfigured that even you, dear love, would have turned from me with
loathing?"

"That was why I did it, dear," said Thankful mischievously. "I knew
that the pride, and the sense of honor, and self-devotion of some
people, would have kept them from keeping their promises to a poor
girl."

"But, darling," continued the major, raising her hand to his lips,
"suppose the case had been reversed: suppose you had taken the disease,
that I had recovered without disfigurement, but that this sweet face--"

"I thought of that too," interrupted Thankful. "Well, what would you
have done, dear?" said the major, with his old mischievous smile.

"I should have died," said Thankful gravely.

"But how?"

"Somehow. But you are to go to sleep, and not