imagine it; he took to coughing as he went about the house--and it was
all he could do to keep from laughing, as he saw the look of dismay on
his poor mother's face. After all, however, he told himself that he
was not deceiving her, for the disease he had was quite as serious as
tuberculosis.

It was very painful and very trying. But there was nothing that could be
done about it; the marriage had been put off for six months, and in the
meantime he and Henriette had to control their impatience and make the
best of their situation. Six months was a long time; but what if it had
been three or four years, as the other doctor had demanded? That would
have been a veritable sentence of death.

George, as we have seen, was conscientious, and regular and careful in
his habits. He took the medicine which the new doctor prescribed
for him; and day by day he watched, and to his great relief saw the
troublesome symptoms gradually disappearing. He began to take heart,
and to look forward to life with his former buoyancy. He had had a bad
scare, but now everything was going to be all right.

Three or four months passed, and the doctor told him he was cured. He
really was cured, so far as he could see. He was sorry, now, that he
had asked for so long a delay from Henriette; but the new date for the
wedding had been announced, and it would be awkward to change it again.
George told himself that he was being "extra careful," and he was repaid
for the inconvenience by the feeling of virtue derived from the delay.
He was relieved that he did not have to cough any more, or to invent
any more tales of his interviews with the imaginary lung-specialist.
Sometimes he had guilty feelings because of all the lying he had had to
do; but he told himself that it was for Henriette's sake. She loved him
as much as he loved her. She would have suffered needless agonies had
she known the truth; she would never have got over it--so it would have
been a crime to tell her.

He really loved her devotedly, thoroughly. From the beginning he had
thought as much of her mental sufferings as he had of any physical harm
that the dread disease might do to him. How could he possibly persuade
himself to give her up, when he knew that the separation would break her
heart and ruin her whole life? No; obviously, in such a dilemma, it was
his duty to use his own best judgment, and get himself cured as quickly
as possible. After that he would be true to her, he would ta