When Margaret woke from that sleep of exhaustion the first faint streaks of daylight were in the sky. She had thrown herself on the bed, dressed as she was, and slept for hours. She started up and hurried to Philip's room. A wax taper was burning low. The nurse was not in sight and at first she thought the child was alone. She stepped quickly to the bed. Then as her eyes became accustomed to the semi-gloom she saw a figure in the big arm-chair. "How is he? I--I must have slept a long time." "He has hardly stirred." "Poor little lamb! He was worn out too. Where is the nurse?" "I sent her to bed. There was no use in both of us sitting up, and she was tired out." "And you have sat here alone all night? and not even been able to read to keep yourself awake." "I have found my thoughts quite sufficient," he said. CHAPTER XL THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS Philip's convalescence was a period of enforced companionship between the two. Mr. De Jarnette had to wait the lifting of the quarantine before he could go back to the city. Even the court had to wait for the quarantine. The case would have come on before this had it not been for postponement on account of it. Nobody had defied it but John Harcourt. He had done so twice. The first time Richard received him and took his message to Margaret, watching her closely as she read it. "Mr. Harcourt?... Oh, yes, I think I will go down--if he isn't afraid. I _want_ to see him." He heard Harcourt say a moment later, "Oh, hang your quarantine, Margaret! I _had_ to come!" Margaret! It had come to that. The next time Mr. Harcourt came the master of the house sent a servant for Margaret and walked in the garden while the visitor was there. If Richard and Margaret had been companions in sorrow they certainly were now in joy. His relief that his negligence had not been visited with the punishment it deserved made him another man than the one she had known. As to the girl,--she was bubbling over with gladness. She even jested with him, calling him "Unker Wichard" once, then blushing at the familiarity, and taking herself to task for it afterwards. But after all, she told herself in impatient protest, they had fought for him side by side--why should they not, for a few short hours at least, rejoice together. He was her foeman still, but the sick-room and its revelations forbade that he should ever seem her bitter enemy again. She would not permit herself to think of the case at issue between them. Philip would live. That was enough now. Let to-morrow and its complications take care of to-morrow. She could not be less than grateful to him for his tenderness to Philip. How sweet the apple blossoms were! And the lilacs!--the bushes that Richard's mother planted, grown to great trees now. How they filled the air with their fragrance. It was a beautiful world! Oh, a beautiful world!