The man lay silent for a moment, then a rush of emotion, struggling for expression, swayed him and he spoke, while his eyes were turned resolutely from her. "I'll tell you, Amanda! I've been a fool not to recognize the fact long ago that I love you." "Oh!" There was a quick cry from the girl. But the man went on, impelled by the pain of losing her. "I see now that I have always loved you, even while I was infatuated by the other girl. You were still you, right there when I needed you, ready to give your comfort and help. I must have loved you in the days we ran barefooted down the hills and looked for flowers or birds. I've been asleep, blind--call it what you will! Perhaps I could have taught you to love me if I had read my own heart in time. I took so much for granted, that you'd always be right there for me--now I've found out the truth too late. Lyman told me--I hope he'll make you happy. Perhaps you better go now. I'm tired." [Illustration: "What did Lyman tell you? I must know"] But the request fell on deaf ears. "Lyman told you--just what did he tell you?" she asked. "Oh," the man groaned. "There's a limit to human endurance. I wish you'd go, dear, and leave me alone for a while." "What did Lyman tell you?" she asked again. "I must know." "What's the use of threshing it over? It brings neither of us happiness. Of course he told me about the engagement, that you are going to marry him." "Oh!" Another little cry, not of joy this time, of anger, rather. There was silence then for a space, while the man turned his face to the wall and the girl tried to still the beating of her heart and control herself sufficiently to be able to speak. "Then, Martin," she whispered, "you saved Lyman for me, because you thought I loved him?" He lifted a protesting hand as if pleading for silence. She went on haltingly, "Why, Martin, you saved the wrong one!" He raised his head from the pillow then; a strangling sound came from his lips. The girl's face burned with blushes but her eyes looked fearlessly into his as she said again, "You saved the wrong one. Why, Martin--Martin-- if you wanted to save the man I love--you--you should have saved yourself!" He read the truth in her eyes; his arms reached out for her then and her lips moved to his as steel to a magnet. When he spoke she marveled at the tenderness in his voice; she never dreamed, even in her brightest romantic dreams, that a man's voice could hold so much tenderness. "Amanda, I began to read my own heart that day you found me in the woods and helped and comforted me." "Oh, Martin," she pressed her lips upon his bandaged head, her eyes were glowing with that "light that never was on land or sea"--"Oh, Martin, I've loved _you_ ever since that day you saved my life by throwing me into the bean-patch and then kissed my burnt hand." "Not your hand this time, sweetheart," he whispered, "your lips!"