In reply to his inquiries as to what was the matter, she had answered laughingly: "Oh, nothing much--only I have been burying myself," and so Morris never dreamed of the real nature of her reveries, or guessed that Wilford Cameron was mingled with every thought. She had forgotten him, he believed; and when, as she grew stronger, he saw how her eyes sparkled at his coming, and how impatient she seemed if he was obliged to hurry off, hope whispered that she would surely be his, and his usually grave face wore a look of happiness which even his patients noticed, feeling themselves better after one of his cheery visits. Poor Morris! he was little prepared for the terrible blow in store for him, when one day early in April he started, as usual, to visit Katy, saying to himself: "If I find her alone, perhaps I'll tell her of my love, and ask if she will come to Linwood this summer;" and Morris paused a moment beneath a beechwood tree to still the throbbings of his heart, which beat so fast as he thought of going home some day from his weary work and finding Katy there, his little wife--his own--whom he might caress and love all his affectionate nature would prompt him to. He knew that in some points she was weak--a silly little thing she called herself when comparing her mind with Helen's--but there was about her so much of purity, innocence, and perfect beauty, that few men, however strong their intellect, could withstand her, and Morris, though knowing her weakness, felt that in possessing her he should have all he needed to make this life desirable. She would improve as she grew older, and it would be a most delightful task to train her into what she was capable of becoming. Alas! for Dr. Morris! He was very near the farmhouse now, and there were only a few minutes between him and the cloud which would darken his horizon so completely. Katy was alone, sitting up in her pretty dressing gown of blue, which was so becoming to her pure complexion. Her hair, which had been all cut away during her long sickness, was growing out again somewhat darker than before, and lay in rings upon her head, making her look more childish than ever. But to this Morris did not object. He liked to have her a child, and he thought he had never seen her so wholly beautiful as she was this morning, when, with glowing cheek and dancing eyes, she greeted him as he came in. "Oh, Dr. Morris!" she began, holding up a letter she had in her hand, "I am so glad you've come, for I wanted to tell you so badly Wilford has not forgotten me, as I used to think, and as I guess you thought, too, though you did not say so. He has written, and he is coming again, if I will let him; and, oh, Morris! I am so glad! Ain't you? Seeing you knew all about it, and never told Helen, I'll let you read the letter." And she held it toward the young man leaning against the mantel and panting for the breath which came so heavily.