As I grew stronger, Setti came and sat beside me, and I have ever been grateful for this chance that made the gentle being known to me. For with her shy ways I else had never known her as the tender and good in woman should be by those who hold them in respect. As I gained strength Uncle Job’s visits were more frequent, but further than caressing my hand or face he scarce said a word, so soft was his heart. The great care with which they watched over me I must believe to have been needed; for one day, when I disregarded some order of Constance’s, I fell into such a dreadful faint that all their efforts to bring me to were vain, until Uncle Job and the doctor had been sent for; and thus I found them grouped about my bed when I revived. When at last I had gained strength and was pronounced out of danger, I one day asked Constance if Aunt Jane had been to see me, thinking it strange if she had not, even in one so cold. For a time Constance did not reply, and when she did it was not like her, but as if she were acting a part. "No, your aunt has not been here, Gilbert. Do you care much?" "I don’t know. Only I thought she might have come while I was sick." "It’s so far, Gilbert, you know." "So far! her farm is scarce half an hour’s ride, Constance. She can’t care for me. Or haven’t you told her?" "No, she doesn’t know, Gilbert." "Oh," I answered, not wondering much, but still feeling as if she ought to have been told. "Didn’t you want her to know?" "We thought to write her, but put it off from day to day, hoping you would be better." "To write her?" I answered, only the more puzzled. "You don’t understand, Gilbert," Constance answered, moving about the room, as she had a way of doing when anyway disturbed. After a while, recovering herself, she went on, "Suppose your aunt is farther away than you think, Gilbert?" "I don’t understand, Constance, unless she is dead or has moved away," I answered, greatly disturbed. "Suppose this is not Little Sandy, but Appletop. What would you say to that, Gilbert?" she asked, kissing me. At this I was more bewildered than ever, not being able in any way to make out the sense of what she was saying. "How can that be and you here?" I answered at last. "Well, would it be so very strange? I might be in Appletop, you know," she answered, as if leading me on. "This room, too! It couldn’t be in both places!" I cried, thinking that for some reason she was seeking to mislead me. "Might we not have moved to Appletop and brought these things with us? That would make it clear," she answered, bending over me. "Yes—I don’t know—only tell me quick!" I answered. "That is how it is, Gilbert. This is not Little Sandy, but Appletop," she replied, pressing her face down close beside mine. After a while, raising her head and smiling on me in tenderest love, she added: "Are you glad, Gilbert!"