“There’s grit for you,” muttered the Judge, who in the next room had overheard the whole. “There’s a girl worth having. Why, I’d give more for Milly’s little finger than for that gutta percha’s whole body. Afraid of the dark,—_little fool_! How can he coo round her as he does! But I’ll put a flea in his ear. I’ll tell him that in Mildred Howell’s face, when she thought that he was dead, I saw who it was she loved. I ain’t blind,” and the Judge paced up and down the room, while Mildred kept on her way, and soon reached the gable-roof. “A pretty time of day to get here,” growled old Hepsy; “after the worst is over, and he got well to bed. I’d save that city sprig for you again if I was Clubs.” “Grandmother, please go down,” said Oliver, while Mildred, unmindful of old Hepsy’s presence, wound her arms around his neck, and he could feel her hot tears dropping like rain upon his face, as she whispered: “Darling Oliver, heaven bless you, even as I do. I knew it must have been so; but why did you risk your life for him? Say, did you?” “Grandmother, will you go down?” Oliver said again; and muttering something about “being glad to get rid of such sickishness,” old Hepsy hobbled off. When sure that she was gone, Oliver placed a hand on each side of the face bending over him, and said: “Don’t thank me, Mildred; I don’t deserve it, for my first wicked thought was to let him drown, but when I remembered how much you loved him, I said I’ll save him for Milly, even though I die. It is far better that the poor cripple should be drowned than the handsome Lawrence. Do you love me more for saving him, Milly?” “Yes, yes,” answered Mildred; “and so does Lilian, or she will when I tell her, for you know you saved him for her, not for me.” “Mildred,” said Oliver, laying his clammy hand upon her hair, “When Lawrence Thornton was sinking in the river, whose name do you think he called?” “Lilian’s!” and by the dim light of the candle burning on the stand, Oliver could see the quivering of her lips. “No, darling, not Lilian, but ‘Milly, dear Milly.’ That was what he said; and there was a world of love in the way he said it.” Mildred’s eyes were bright as diamonds, but Oliver’s were dim with tears, and he could not see how they sparkled and flashed, while a smile of joy broke over the face. He only knew that both Mildred’s hands were laid upon his forehead as if she would doubly bless him for the words which he had spoken. There was silence a moment, and then Mildred’s face came so near to his that he felt her breath and Mildred whispered timidly: “Are you certain, Oliver, that you heard aright? Wasn’t it Lilian? Tell me again just what he said.” “Milly, dear Milly,” and Oliver’s voice was full of yearning tenderness, as if the words welled up from the very depths of his own heart.