“I have no doubt he will do that as soon as he is well enough,” said Helen; but all these remarks made her uneasy. Impossible for Scotch hospitality to give a hint, to intimate a thought, that the visitor had overstayed his welcome--and a man that had been hurt and was, perhaps, still suffering! “No, no,” she said, shaking her head. But it troubled her gentle mind that Lily’s visits should be so remarked, and it was strange--or was it only the village gossip that made her feel that it was strange? Lily perceived all this with an uneasy perception of new elements in the air. “Ronald,” she said one day, when they were alone for a few minutes, “you could put your foot to the ground without hurting when you try. You will have to go away.” “Why should I go away?” he said, with a laugh. “I am very comfortable. It is not luxury, but it does very well when I see my Lily every day----” “But, oh,” she cried, the color coming to her cheeks, which had been growing pale these few days, “there are things of more consequence than Lily! The Manse people are not rich----” “You need not tell me that,” he said, looking round at the shabby furniture with a smile. “But, oh, Ronald, you don’t see! They try to get nice things for you, they spend a great deal of trouble upon you, and they were glad at first--but it is now a fortnight.” “Lily, my love,” he said quickly, “if you have ceased to care for this chance of meeting every day--if you want me to go away, of course I will go.” “Do you think it likely I should have ceased to care?” she said, with tears in her eyes. “But we must think of other people, too.” “Thinking of other people is generally a mistake. We all know how to take care of ourselves best--unless it is here and there some one like you, if there is any one like my Lily. But, dear, I give very little trouble. What is there to do for me? Another bed to make, another knife and fork--or spoon, I should say, for we have broth, broth, and nothing but broth--and a little grouse now and then, sent to them by somebody, and therefore costing nothing.” “It is ungenerous to say that!” Lily cried. “My dearest, you will tell me what present I can send them when at last I am forced to tear myself away. A good present that will make up to them--a chest of tea, or a barrel of wine, or---- But I don’t want to go away, Lily; I would rather stay here and see you every day until I am forced to go back to my work.” “Oh, and so would I!” cried Lily; “but,” she added, with a sigh, “we must think of them. Mr. Blythe sits always, always in this room. It is the sunny room in the house, and he likes it best. But you see he has gone into his little study this day or two--which is very dreary--all because we are here.” “Very considerate of him,” said Ronald, with a laugh, “if that is a reason for going away, that they now leave us sometimes alone. I fear it will not move me, Lily; you must find a better than that.”