or full half an hour, and then she seemed
almost asleep, though she resisted the attempt to undress her, with
the words, "I must go to Herbert."

"I will take care of Herbert," and Jenny was too much spent not to
acquiesce, and fell asleep almost before she was laid down on the
bed their landlady had given up to the watchers.

Rosamond's task was a comfortable one, for every hour of sleep,
every mouthful of food seemed to do its work of restoration on the
sound, healthy frame, and a smile and word of thanks met her
whenever she roused her patient with the inevitable spoon.

When he awoke towards morning, he asked what day it was, and when
she told him, answered, "So I thought. Then I have not lost count
of time."

"No, you have been wonderfully clear-headed."

"I can't see how there can have been time to write," he said. "It
is true that he is come, is it not?"

"Quite true; but he came independently on business," and Rosamond
told of Julius's chase, bringing a look of amusement on his face.

Jenny came in with the rising sun, pale indeed, but another creature
after her rest and in the sight of the restful countenance that
greeted her with a smile. The moaning, hoarse voice was gone too,
it was a faint shadow of Herbert's own tones that said, "Is not this
good, Jenny? I didn't think to have seen it."

"My Herbert, you have given him back! You have given me the heart
to be glad!"

"You must go and see him," said Herbert.

Jenny looked wistful and undecided; but Julius entered to say that
she must come at once, for Archie must go back to London by the ten
o'clock train to an appointment, and could not return for two days.

Herbert smiled her away, for he was still in a state where it was
not possible to bear any engrossing of his head-nurse, and the
lover's absence was, even to his unselfishness, good news.

Rosamond could not refrain from the pleasure of peeping down the
little dark stair as Archie and his Jenny met in the doorway, and
she walked demurely in their rear, wondering whether other eyes saw
as much as she did in the manner in which Jenny hung on his arm.
She left them to their dewy walk in the Rectory garden to the last
minute at which breakfast could be swallowed, and told Jenny that
she was to drive him in the pony-carriage to Hazlett's Gate; she
would take care of Herbert.

"You ought to be asleep, you know," said Jenny.

"My dear, I couldn't sleep! There's a great deal better than