"Yes," answered Judith, putting down the glass and seating herself at the bedside, taking his hand and stroking it softly, studying his face with intent, questioning eyes. "You know where you are now, don't you, Creed?" He smiled at her. "I'm in the front room at your house where we-all danced the night of the play-party," he said. "I loved you that night, Judith--only I hadn't quite found out about it." The statement was made with the simplicity of a child--or of a sick man. It went over Judith with a sudden, sweet shock. Then her jealous heart must know that it was really all hers. Nerve racked as only a creature of the open can be after weeks of confinement in a sick-room, torn with the possessive passion of her earth-born temperament, she stood up suddenly and asked him in a voice of pain that sounded harsh and menacing, "Creed, whar's Huldy?" "I don't know," returned Creed tremulously. The blue eyes in their great hollows came up to her face in a frightened gaze. Instantly they lost their clearness; they clouded and filmed with that look of confusion which had been in them from the first. "You're married to her--ain't you?" choked Judith, horrified at what she had done, loathing herself for it, yet pushed on to do more. "Yes," whispered Creed miserably. "Sit down by me again, Judith. Don't be mad. What are you mad about? I forget--there was awful trouble, and somebody was shot--oh, how they all hate me!" The fluttering moment of normal conditions was gone. The baffled, confused eyes closed; the thin hands began to fumble piteously about the covers; the pale lips resumed their rapid motion, while from between them flowed the old, swift stream of broken whispers. Judith had quenched the first feeble flame of intelligence that flickered up toward her. She remained a moment staring down at her handiwork, then covered her face, and burst out crying. An ungentle grasp descended upon her shoulder. Her uncle, standing tall and angry behind her, thrust her from the room. "Thar now!" he said with carefully repressed violence, lest his tones should disturb the sick man. "You've raised up a pretty interruption with my patient. I 'lowed I could trust you, Jude. What in the world you fussin' with Creed about? For God's sake, did you see him? You've nigh-about killed him, I reckon. Didn't I tell you not to name anything to him to werry him?" "He says he's married Huldy," said Judith in a strangled voice. "Say! He'd say anything--like he is now," retorted her uncle, exasperated. "An' he'd shore say anything on earth that was put in his mouth. I don't care if he's married forty Huldy's; what I want is for him to get well. Lord, I do wish I had Nancy here, and not one of these fool young gals with their courtin' business and their gettin' jealous and having to have a rippit with a sick man that don't know what he's talkin' about," he went on savagely. But high-spirited Judith paid no attention to the cutting arraignment.