the morning, I turned my head.

"Miss Follansbee," I said, "I rather think----"

"I told her that she must have a good night's sleep, Dave," came the
beloved voice, "and I've been playing nurse, ever so poorly, I'm afraid.
But Dr. Porter said that you would be all right now. And--and I've been
so happy to be in the dear old room, and to see the old typewriter, and
the calabash, and to know you are getting well again."

"I--I am thrice blessed," I said, "but it is too bad you took so much
trouble. You must be dreadfully tired."

"I've been tired so long, Dave," she said, with tears coming to her
eyes. "It--it has been such weary waiting."

"The nights are awfully long," I told her.

"The nights and the days, David dearest. I've been waiting such a long,
long time."

She threw herself on her knees by the bed, and took up my hand, stroking
it, and suddenly an amazing light seemed to flood the room, laden with
knowledge, sweeping away fears, bringing a tremulous bliss to my heart.

"Dearest love!" I cried. "Is this true, or is it another dream? How
could I speak of my love to you? How could old Dave cry out to the
beautiful star that was so high up in the wonderful sky? I feared it
would vanish and leave me in utter darkness. Do--do you mean that I may
tell you of my heart's desire?"

"Yes, David dearest! Tell me of it. Tell it forever, for years and years
to come. I've been so hungry for those words you dared not tell."

"I--I am all unshaven and unshorn," I said, "and----"

"But in spite of that, you're my own dearest Dave, with the strength of
a man and the heart of a child."

So she bent over and her dear lips touched mine, and the days of sorrow
were ended.

* * * * *

Some days later she took my arm. It was my first walk. I was to go as
far as the room that had been hers and back again. For this tremendous
excursion I was clad in a gorgeous dressing-gown Frieda had bought for
me, and my cheeks were shaven clean and, somehow, I felt young again, as
if the dear hand in mine had brushed away a score of years.

So I went with her, leaning upon her. She opened the door and led me in.
Frieda was there, and Gordon and Sophia. Near the window there was an
easel, and upon it I saw Gordon's masterpiece, which they had sent with
their love. And the painted "Mother and Child" was mine, as the living
ones also were.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TOP-FLOOR IDYL***