Hugh fumbled with the little bottle as he tried to return the extra disks he had accidentally poured out into his hand. Elizabeth waited till he had the cork in place, with her arm still under the pillow. He turned his face toward her as he thrust the bottle back, and accidentally touched her hand under his head. He glanced up consciously. Her breath, fresh, warm, full of the life man adores, came to him from her parted lips, and to get away from the impulse to say things he was resolved not to say, he closed his eyes and turned his head feebly. A gasp of fright came from the girl as she saw the contortion of his haggard face. "Hugh!" she exclaimed. The glass she held fell from her fingers and rolled to the foot of the bed, scattering its contents abroad unobserved, as she threw her other arm across him and lifted him for the air she supposed he needed. Their breaths mingled. Human nature is but human nature, man is but man and woman is but woman in the final analysis: they were in the hands of a fate stronger than either of them at that moment. Elizabeth struggled no more; right or wrong, it had happened, and she brought her rocking chair and with her free hand clasped in his, read and took life as it came. After that, sin nor sickness could keep them from being happy. If the girl talked of the better course of restoring the old reserve, Hugh's hand would reach out imploringly: "Only till I get well, dearest; I won't trouble your conscience after that. I know you don't feel right about this, but I can't go back to a life without any affection again while I'm here," and Elizabeth always responded to that call. She reflected that even Luther could not condemn her for it. Yet when John was in the house or whenever she was obliged to be careful about Hepsie, as she often was, she was outraged in her own sight, and her colours trailed in the dust of humiliation, for she saw that the path she was treading was one of unaccustomed duplicity. "If I could only approve of myself," she said to Hugh, and then was sorry she had spoken, for Hugh Noland's face grew more white and he closed his eyes with a little sob. "Oh, my darling," he said when he could speak again, "you long for that and I like you for it too, but I'm weak. I want to be loved and petted, and--I'm so tired that I don't want to think about it at all. Kiss me, sweet," and Elizabeth kissed him, and was glad in spite of herself. "You shall not have to think till you're well," she promised, and the days ran on throughout the blazing summer, and Hugh improved, and Elizabeth won Doctor Morgan's admiration as a nurse.