“I suppose so; he just gave his ‘umph!’ and said he was beginning to respect me. A little while after, Edwards, hearing, I suppose, that I had arrived, came in. He gave me one of the heartiest grips I ever had, and told me that before I stopped to see my parents, I should have knelt down and thanked God for my preservation.” “How like him! What did you answer?” “I told him I had already done so. He said it gave him pleasure to hear it, and he hoped I would remember the One who never forgot me. Well, after a little talk, he smiled in that pleasing way of his, and said he was just thinking there was some one else who would like to see me. I asked him who he could mean, of course, not knowing who it was; but he looked so mischievous, I know I blushed and showed that I knew well enough who he meant. So after some more conversation, I left and came here.” “How long ago?” “A good while, indeed. I came up as silently as possible, intending to give you a surprise. When I came up to the door, I saw you standing in it, and supposed you had seen me, so I laughed, called you by name and approached. You did not reply, and I was frightened to see you look so.” “To see me look how?” “Why, so much like death. At first I started, and almost believed you were dead—you appeared so white, and your eyes were fixed upon the clouds away off in the sky. I spoke again, but you made no answer, and I was afraid to approach you. I thought perhaps you were asleep, and in a fit of somnambulism, and waited to see if you moved. By-and-by, you remember, you did, and finally saw me standing before you. What did it mean, Irene? Have you ever been thus before?” “I suppose so, several times. At any rate, I have been spoken to about it.” “Were you really asleep.” “I don’t know, George, I have been filled with such distressing doubts about you, that it must have caused my singular actions. It seemed I couldn’t help it, and I _was_ afraid I would go crazy. Perhaps I have already,” she laughed, looking up into his face. “I am glad and yet very sorry to hear this, Irene,” said Kingman, pressing the affectionate girl to him and drawing her head down again upon his shoulder. “I am glad for it shows me unmistakably that my love is returned; and I am sorry because it shows that it may have had a sad effect upon your system. You must get over it now.” “I hope I shall, as the cause is removed.” “Not removed, for it strikes me that he is nearer you this moment than he has been for a number of days.” “Then if the cause is not removed, the cure has been applied, I suppose,” smiled Irene. “Yes, once or twice; another application cannot hurt,” added Kingman, applying his lips to the cheek of his fair companion. “But, George, you have not told me yet the whole particulars of the battle with the Indians, and the terrible suffering you must have undergone. Let me hear it now, will you?” “Just sit a little closer, then, as I do not wish to talk too loud.”