"Before you say anything, I want to tell you that I have quite decided. Thank you," she made a gesture to the Major, "for all you said. I know you mean to be kind, in telling me of the difficulties, but I have quite decided. If it is a mistake--well, I am content to abide by it; but as it seems possible for me to bring a little happiness to Francis, I am going to do it." This time it was the Major who did not answer. He was standing by the fireplace with his eyes on the hearthstone, and his face was working under the stress of some emotion. In his hand he held a small bunch of violets. "God bless you," said the doctor softly. Then with a quick change of tone he added, "We'll save him yet. Please God we'll save him yet." Then he drew Philippa to one side, and began to give her some instructions, and some professional details as to the condition of his patient, to which the girl listened attentively. "At five o'clock this evening I'll come and take you to him," he said presently. "I can only allow you to stay a few moments, and I need hardly impress on you the strict necessity that he should not be allowed to excite himself in any way. But I do not think we shall have any trouble of that kind, for I have already warned him about it. I must go now. You may expect me at five this afternoon." "I wish Marion were here." The Major turned to Philippa when they were left alone. "I think in a case like this a woman might know what to say to you. I have said all I can, haven't I?" "You have said all you can, but--I think you saw for yourself, didn't you?" He nodded. "Poor chap!" he said, with real feeling in his voice. "It is a wonderful change." "He knew you?" "Apparently; although, of course, he may have thought I was my father. We had the same name. He looks frightfully ill--more so than he did when he was walking about his rooms--but he spoke as sensibly as you or I." "What did he say?" "He said, 'That you, Bill?' when I came into the room. 'I've had rather a nasty turn, but I'm on the mend now. How is Phil? That ruffian has been keeping her away for a day or two, but he says I may see her soon now. Will you give her my dear love?' And then he looked round for the violets which were beside his bed. 'Give her these, will you, old fellow, and tell her I shall see her as soon as I can get on the soft side of old Rob.' He does not look to me as if he could live long." "Then we will make him happy, until--as long as he lives. Do not trouble any more about it--my share of it, I mean. Just try and think of me as if I were really Phil, not Philippa any more. Will you help me?" "I wish Marion were here," repeated the Major earnestly. "But it is impossible; she cannot leave the boy. And I cannot leave her, for she is nearly worn out with nursing and anxiety." "I think it is really better that I should be here alone," returned Philippa. "It makes it all easier, I think."