The bright round spot deepened on her cheek, and William felt for an instant that had he the means, he would bear the poor invalid away to a sunnier clime, and by his tender care nurse her back to health. But he had not. There were bills on bills which he could not pay. His father, too, was straitened, for old Mr. Bellenger had left his entire fortune by will to his wife, who had refused to sanction the reckless extravagance of her son’s family. A rich bride, then, must cancel William’s debts, and as Ellen was not rich, he dared not talk to her of marriage, but whispered only of the love he felt for her. And Ellen grew faint and chill listening to this idle mockery, for the November wind blew cold upon the bleak mountain side. It was in vain that William wrapped both shawl and arm about her, hugging her closer to him until her golden hair rested on his bosom. He could not make her warm, and at last he took her home, telling her by the way that he would come again ere long and stay with her a week. "I will explain to your mother then," he said, "and until that time you’d better say nothing of the matter, lest it should reach the ears of my proud family. I would write to you, but that would create surprise. So you’ll have to be content with knowing that I do most truly love you." And Ellen tried to be content, though after he was gone she cried herself to sleep, and for a time forgot her wretchedness. She had taken a severe cold upon the mountain, and for many weeks she stayed indoors, thinking through all the long winter evenings of William, and wishing he would come again, or send her some message. At last, as her desire to see him grew stronger, she resolved to write and bid him come, for she was dying.