"Yes," he answered, wondering. "But I told you--" "But there is a way!" "Well?" "Promise me you will not ride Sunnysides." He shook his head. "No. I can't promise that." "Why?" "That's one of the things you couldn't possibly understand." "But it's such a little thing!" "If I gave you that, I should indeed have nothing left. You would have all." It was true that she could not in the least understand. But she knew she could not move him. "Then promise me," she pleaded, "that you'll not try it until you are quite, quite well!" "Oh. I promise you that!" he replied, with a grim smile. "Thank you--Philip!" Presently she arose, and looked down at him with a long, lingering gaze that seemed to be searching for something in his features. "You'll take just what Jim gives you?" she asked anxiously. "Of course." "And not try to--boss him about the medicines and the food?" "I promise to obey orders." "And you'll be very careful?" "Yes." She moved slowly toward the door. But halfway there she stopped, and turned to look at him again. How could she leave him now? She couldn't! She couldn't! He was gazing away from her, out through the window. Wasn't he going to say a word to her--of farewell? She came back unsteadily, and stood behind his chair, her hands stretched out above his head. Then suddenly, impulsively, not touching him with her hands, she leaned down, and kissed his forehead. "Good-by!" she said, her voice breaking. "Good-by!" he answered gently, but without turning his head. He heard the door opened and closed, very softly. After that he sat a long time in silence. Well, she was gone! It had been a trying afternoon, and he was glad to have it ended. And yet the room seemed to be extraordinarily empty, as it had never been before his illness. The stillness rather oppressed him. Damn it all, sickness did strange things to a man! Took a lot out of him! He straightened himself in his chair. Presently Jim entered. "Well, Jim!" said Haig. "Here we are again, eh? I'm hungry." "You eat, she come back," Jim answered shrewdly. Haig looked at him sharply, but the Chinaman's face was like a paper mask. "Shut up!" he cried savagely. CHAPTER XVI QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Hillyer was waiting for her at the barn when she came at last, with a smile that eased his anxiety, if only in an inconsiderable degree. But he saw, as he took her handbag and bundle, and placed them in the automobile, that she had been crying. This gladdened while it angered him, and he was lost among the many interpretations that might be put upon those signs of distress. Had she come to the end of her infatuation? Had she been subjected to insults as the reward of her service? He dared not ask her such questions--not yet; but he was resolved (and there were material reasons, too, for that decision) to have his own case settled, one way or another, at once.