“Miss Berrit’,” he said in a whisper like an elf’s, “an’ Mist’ San’s. Den I wasn’t dereamin’. Y’ are a-goin’ to git marrit, after orl?”
As the words left his lips, the doctor looked straight across at Susie Berrith, and sharply nodded!
There was the briefest imaginable pause, and then the girl bent down and kissed Darius on the lips.
“Yes, Darius,” she answered steadily. “Yes, dear, I am going to marry Mr. Sands!”
“God bless you!” said the doctor softly.
He knew it was a lie!
As we waited outside the house for his verdict, I could no more have spoken to her than to the Madonna upon an altar. When, at last, he came to us with word that the boy would live, we turned home together, still in silence.
The air had gone suddenly chill and supremely clear. The gold of the declining sun splashed through the openings between the
