It was a specially pleasant and homelike evening to him; Mrs. Barholm's gentle heart went out to the handsome invalid. She had never had a son of her own, though it must be confessed she had yearned for one, strong and deep as was her affection for her girl.
But it was not till Derrick bade Anice good-night, that he heard what she intended to say to him. When he was going, just as he stepped across the threshold of the entrance door, she stopped him.
"Wait a minute, if you will be so good," she said. "I have something to ask of you."
He paused, half smiling.
"I thought you had forgotten," he returned.
"Oh! no, I had not forgotten," she answered. "But it will only seem a very slight thing to you perhaps." Then she began again, after a pause. "If you please, do not think I am a coward," she said.
"A coward!" he repeated.
"You were afraid to let Mr. Grace tell me about your accident last night and though it was very kind of you, I did not like it. You must not think that because these things are new and shock me, I am not strong enough to trust in. I am stronger than I look."
"My dear Miss Barholm," he protested, "I am sure of that. I ought to have known better. Forgive me if—"
"Oh," she interposed," you must not blame yourself. But I wanted to ask you to be so kind as to think better of me than that. I want to be sure that if ever I can be of use to anybody, you will not stop to think of the danger or annoyance. Such a time may never come, but if it does—"
"I shall certainly remember what you have said," Fergus ended for her.
