ce. "I most
wisht I was. Creed----"

She slipped from her chair dropping on her knees beside him.

"Creed, I want to tell you now while I can do it that the boys is gone to
get Huldy. She can take care of you after this--but I'll help. I ain't
mad about it. I was aimin' to tell you that the next time she come in you
should bid her stay. God knows I want ye to be happy--whether it's me or
another."

Bewilderment grew in the blue eyes regarding her so fixedly.

"Huldah?" he repeated. And then again in a lower, musing tone, "Huldah."

"Yes--yo' wife, Huldy Spiller," Judith urged mildly. "Don't you mind
namin' it to me the first time she slipped in to visit you?"

An abashed look succeeded the expression of bewilderment. A faint, fine
flush crept on the thin, white cheek.

"I--I do," Creed whispered, with a foolish little smile beginning to
curve his lips; "but there wasn't a word of truth in it--dear. I've never
seen the girl since she left Aunt Nancy's that Saturday morning."

"What made you say it then?" breathed Judith wonderingly.

"I--I don't know," faltered the sick man. "It seemed like you was mad
about something; and then it seemed like Huldah was here; and then--I
don't know Judith--didn't I say a heap of other foolishness?"

The simple query reproved his nurse more than a set arraignment would
have done. He had indeed babbled, in his semi-delirium, plenty of "other
foolishness," this was the only point upon which she had been credulous.

"Oh Creed--honey!" she cried, burying her face in the covers of his bed,
"I'm so 'shamed. I've got such a mean, bad disposition. Nobody couldn't
ever love me if they knew me right well."

She felt a gentle, caressing touch on her bowed head.

"Jude, darling," Creed's voice came to her, and for the first time it
sounded really like his voice, "I loved you from the moment I set eyes on
you. I didn't sense it for a spell, but I come to see that you were the
one woman in the world for me. There never was a man done what went more
against the grain than I the night I parted from you down at the railroad
station and let you go back when you would have come with me--so
generous--so loving--"

He broke off with a choking sigh, and Judith raised her head in a sort of
consternation. Were these the exciting topics that her Uncle Jep would
have banished from the sick-room? she wondered. But no, Creed had never
looked so nearly a well man as now. He raised himself from the pill