ceded, moved by her anxiety.

"Every day?"

"We'll see."

"All right," he laughed weakly. "If you don't come, I'll take a _pasear_
and go look for you." She helped him to his feet and they stood for a
moment facing each other.

"You must put your hand on my shoulder and lean hard on me," she told
him.

But when she saw the utter weakness of him, her arm slipped round his
waist and steadied him.

"Now then. Not too fast," she ordered gently.

They went back very slowly, his weight leaning on her more at every
step. When they reached his room, Keller sank down on the bed, utterly
exhausted. Phyllis ran for a cordial and put it to his lips. It was some
time before he could even speak.

"Thank you. I ain't right husky yet," he admitted.

"You mustn't ever do such a thing again," she charged him.

"Not ever?"

"Not till the doctor says you're strong enough to move."

"I won't--if you'll come and see me every day," he answered
irrepressibly.

So every afternoon she brought a book or her sewing, and sat by him,
letting Phil storm about it as much as he liked. These were happy hours.
Neither spoke of love, but the air was electrically full of it. They
laughed together a good deal at remarks not intrinsically humorous, and
again there were conversational gaps so highly charged that she would
rush at them as a reckless hunter takes a fence.

As he got better, he would be propped up in bed, and Aunt Becky would
bring in tea for them both. If there had been any corner of his heart
unwon it would have surrendered then. For to a bachelor the acme of
bliss is to sit opposite a girl of whom he is very fond, and to see her
buttering his bread and pouring his tea with that air of domesticity
that visualizes the intimacy of which he has dreamed. Keller had played
a lone hand all his turbulent life, and this was like a glimpse of
Heaven let down to earth for his especial benefit.

It was on such an occasion that Jim Yeager dropped in on them upon his
return from Noches. He let his eyes travel humorously over the room
before he spoke.

"Why for don't I ever have the luck to be shot up?" he drawled.

"Oh, you Jim!" Keller called a greeting from the bed. Phyllis came
forward, and, with a heightened color, shook hands with him.

"You'll sit down with us and have some tea, Jim," she told him.

"Me? I'm no society Willie. Don't know the game at all, Phyl. Besides,
I'm carrying half of Arizona on my clothes. It's some dus