"Somethin' like it, anyhow; and then the 'Curnel bowed mighty grand, an' ses he--'Arrah, then, it's the whole rigmint 'ull be wantin' 'Curnel Vernon, if I mintion them conditions,' ses he." I laughed to a degree that alarmed Nurse, at the idea of our dashing thorough-bred colonel prefacing his speech with "arrah, thin." "I'll lave ye intirely if ye be shakin' yerself that way, when ye havn't the stringth in ye to laugh out." "Oh Nurse, dear Nurse, do not go, tell me something more." "I havn't a ha'poth more to tell ye, an its time for me to be going. The blessin' of Christ be wid ye, ye'r lookin' ten stone bether, Glory be to God." The next day in consequence of Nurse's report, Miss Vernon came with her grandfather. I almost expected her, yet her advent made me feel strangely nervous; it seemed strange to me too, being unable to rise, that she should come over, and place her hand in mine, when I could not stir to receive her; she sat down near me and began talking in a gentle subdued tone, as if half afraid of disturbing me. "You look much better than I expected, Captain Egerton; what a wonderful recovery! But why would you not let me come here before?" "I was afraid my ghastly looks would frighten you." "You look all eyes now." In a whisper, "I am." "I do not think you look so well to day, Egerton, you have a feverish excited air, and your voice is decidedly weaker," observed the Colonel. "Perhaps we ought not to stay," said Miss Vernon. "I beg you will not leave me," I gasped. After a little more conversation a message from Mr. Winter called the Colonel out of the room, and Kate and I were _tête-à-tête_. "Nurse gave rather a melancholy account of you yesterday," said Miss Vernon, "she said you were all alone and '_dissolute_' by yourself. Have you no books?" "I do not feel up to reading, but if I had any one to read out to me--Gilpin has not time." "I would be delighted, I will come here and read to you and Mrs. Winter every day." "You are most kind." The excitement of her visit was too much for me, and I felt a faintness stealing over me. Miss Vernon observing the deadly pallor of my face, with an expression of alarm, felt my pulse. "Let me call some one," she said. I feebly grasped her hand, dreading that an interview so delightful to me should be curtailed. "It is nothing--air, air!" I articulated with much difficulty. Still leaving her hand in mine, she stretched the other to a screen, and fanned me silently for a few moments; then perceiving the returning colour, "Are you better now?" she said softly, with such an expression of tenderness in her dark eyes, I could have thrown myself at her feet.