"I didn't see," she murmured; "I thought-you--had--forgotten." "No," he said; "you never saw. It doesn't matter; I know now it would never have been any use. Hush, dear; don't talk; it's so bad for you!" "I'm sorry. But I was _his_ before you came. I couldn't. Could I?" "No, of course. Don't worry; don't, for God's sake! There's nothing to be sorry about. I must go to the next ward; I shall see you this afternoon. Try to sleep a little, won't you?" He went out, with a word to the nurse, who came back; and Mary lay silent. Presently she said: "Sophie--yes, this afternoon," Something in the voice startled; the girl gulped before she spoke: "All right! he shall hear as soon as he comes." "Don't forget." "I won't forget, chummy; you can feel quite sure about it." "Thanks, Sophie. I'm so tired." The rain was falling still. She heard it blowing against the panes, and lay listening to it, wondering if it would keep him away. Then her thoughts drifted; and she slept. When Kincaid returned he took Sophie's place, and sat watching till the figure stirred. The eyes opened at him vaguely. "I've been asleep?" "Yes." "Is it very late?" "It's about three, I think.... Just three." "Ah!" she said with relief. She closed her eyes again, and there was a long pause. He covered her nerveless hand with his own. "Don't grieve," she whispered; "it doesn't hurt." "Oh, my dear, my dear! You, and my mother, too--helpless with both!" "The many," she said faintly, "think of the many you've pulled through. You've ... been very good to me ... very good." To his despair it seemed that ever since they met she had been telling him that. It was the dole that she had yielded, the atom that his devotion had ever wrung from her--she found him "good"! And even as she said it, her eagerness caught the footfall, that she had been waiting for; and she nestled lower on the pillow, trying to hide her disfigurement from view. "Mary," said Kincaid, "you didn't care for me; but will you let me kiss you on the forehead--while you know?" A smile--a smile of tenderness wonderfully new and strange to him irradiated her face; and, turning, he saw the other man had come in. THE END End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man Who Was Good, by Leonard Merrick