Jane Blagden paused a moment at the entrance to the room, as if to gather strength for the interview. I had never seen her so moved. Then she opened the door and entered with a firm step.
He lay on the bed with his eyes fixed eagerly on the door. As she entered he tried to raise his head.
"Jane!" he exclaimed, eagerly.
She placed her hand for a moment on her heart, as if to still its throbbing. Then she walked quickly to the bed.
"Philip!" she said.
"At last!" he cried, in a low voice.
"Can you forgive me, Philip, dear Philip?"
"If there is anything to forgive."
"There is—much. I am afraid you have suffered."
"I have."
"And so have I. Since we parted I have been lonely—desolate. I let my pride and my obstinacy come between us—but I have been punished."
She had drawn a chair to the bed-side, and sitting down took his hand in hers. It was hot, feverish.
"You are very ill, I fear."
"I shall be better now," he murmured. "It is worth much to have you beside me."
I looked at the face of the Disagreeable Woman. I saw upon it an expression I had never seen before—an expression that made her look ten years younger. I could not have believed in the tenderness, the heart-warmth which it showed.
"Philip," she said, "you must get well for my sake."
"And if I do?" he asked, eagerly.
"It shall be as you wish."
He closed his eyes, and a look of happiness and content lighted up his features. But soon there was a change. It was evident that the excitement had been too much for him.
"Miss Blagden," I said, "I think you must go. Our patient is too weak to stand any more excitement or agitation."
"Can I not stay here as his nurse?" she pleaded.
"It will be better to have a trained nurse—one who will not agitate him."
"As you think best, doctor," she said, meekly, "but I will stay in the house. How soon can you send a nurse?"
"Within an hour."
"Do so, and I will stay here till then. If he wakes I will leave the room."
Within an hour a trained nurse was installed in the sick chamber. MissBlagden made an arrangement with Mrs. Graham to occupy a room which had fortunately been vacated the day previous. It was small and uncomfortable, but she cared little for this.
Then commenced the struggle with disease. Philip Douglas was very ill. I had not exaggerated the danger. He was unconscious most of the time, but in spite of that he seemed to have a dim consciousness that there was some good in store for him.
While he was unconscious Miss Blagden felt at liberty to spend a part of her time in the room. She assisted the nurse, and waited patiently for the patient's amendment.
For three days it was a matter of doubt whether he would live or die. I gave up all other patients for him. I had become almost as anxious as MissBlagden. I watched Philip Douglas narrowly to note any change either for the better or worse. It was a long and wearisome vigil. I was waiting for the crisis.
At length it came. He began to breathe more freely, though still unconscious. I noticed a change for the better in his pulse. Her eyes as well as mine were fixed upon the sick man. Finally her eyes sought my face with eager questioning.
"Is there a change?" she asked.
"Yes, he will live."
"Thank God!" she breathed, fervently, and a look of grateful joy lighted up the face of the Disagreeable Woman.
Transcriber's Note:Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.
Transcriber's Note:Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.