She was alive to nothing but feeling and the indulgence of it, and careless how much time the indulgence of it might take. It was passion's time. She was startled when two hands took hold of her and a grave voice said, "If you do in this way, I shall have two patients instead of one, Miss Elizabeth." Elizabeth suffered herself to be lifted up and placed on the sofa, and sat down like a child. Even at the instant came a flash of recollection bringing back the time, long past, when Winthrop had lifted her out of the rattlesnake's way. She felt ashamed and rebuked. "This is not the lesson I set you," he said gently. Elizabeth's head drooped lower. She felt that he _had_ two patients -- if he had only known it! "You might set me a great many lessons that I should be slow to learn, Mr. Landholm," she said sadly. "I hope not," he said in his usual tone. "There is no present occasion for this distress. I cannot see that Mr. Haye' symptoms are particularly unfavourable." Elizabeth could have answered a great deal to that; but she only said, tearfully, "How good you are to take care of him!" "I will be as good as I can," said he smiling a little. "I should like to have you promise to do as much." "That would be to promise a great deal, Mr. Landholm," said Elizabeth looking up earnestly. "What then?" Elizabeth looked down and was silent, but musing much to herself. "Is it too much of a promise to make?" said he gravely. "No --" said Elizabeth slowly, -- "but more than I am ready to make." "Why is that?" "Because, Mr. Landholm," said she looking up again at him, "I don't believe I should keep it if I made it." "You expect me to say, in that case you are quite right not to make it. No, -- you are quite wrong."