“Why should you mind? As a professional man, I am nothing if I am not discreet. What is more, I respect and admire a lady of position who casts aside conventionalities, and dares, for once, to listen to her heart.” “But the world would be very cruel if it knew all.” “Perhaps. I really don’t know anything about your world. But need it know all? You can surely remain, Miss Mordaunt, for the present.” “If you have recognized me, another might.” “Then take care ‘another’ doesn’t see you. With ordinary precaution, you need not excite attention. I presume that you have been in the habit of taking Mary’s place from the beginning?” “Ever since Colonel Dacre was insensible.” “Exactly. Then the girl, being in your confidence, will help you, of course.” “And the nurse?” “Oh! I can easily manage her; she is not the kind of woman to be astonished at anything. I shall simply tell her that the lady to whom Colonel Dacre is going to be married is staying in the hotel, and would like to see him sometimes; and you will find you have only to present yourself at the door to obtain ready admittance.” “Thank you very much, Doctor May; only that if it would excite Colonel Dacre to see me----” “All the while he remains in his present state nothing can excite him,” replied Doctor May. “Directly I see a change for better or worse I will let you know.” “You are very kind. I am glad now that you know all about it.” And she held out her hand with pretty impulsiveness. He lifted it respectfully to his lips, and then he let it fall with a sigh, and found himself envying Colonel Dacre. It was worth while even to be “sick unto death” for such a woman’s love. CHAPTER XV. A JOYFUL AWAKENING. As we said before, only those who have watched by the sick-bed of one they love better than themselves can picture the next few days. Doctor May had made the nurse understand that “Miss Mordaunt” had a right to be with Colonel Dacre, and the two watched every night together, expecting every hour to be the last. Miss Mordaunt was worn to a shadow with these anxious nights, for she did not even rest in the daytime, like her companion. How could she sleep through these precious minutes, which might be the only comfort in the future--a memory that would be more to her than any living love? For she had sworn to be Colonel Dacre’s widow if she was never to be his wife. Colonel Dacre had been ten days unconscious, and hovering so close on the edge of the “valley of the shadow,” that sometimes they thought he had gone for good, and could never creep back into the light again. But he had a strong constitution, and fought every inch of the ground resolutely. At last Doctor May said: “There will be a crisis to-night. I see a great change coming on, but whether for good or evil, I cannot tell as yet, since the rally before death often deceives us for the moment.”