“Thank you. But I know I look wretched. My cheeks so thin, my eyes so big and hollow! But I have been very ill. It is a wonder I did not die.” “I was afraid that you would, dear. I began to feel that fate was against me in everything, and that you would be taken from me in punishment for the fraud by which I won you. It was wicked, I know, but perhaps God will forgive and let me find happiness with you at last--because I love you so.” It was pathetic, pitiful--this mad love that had broken the barriers of Right and Duty for its own sake. But would Heaven indeed forgive? Royall Sherwood never considered any one but himself in the struggle for Daisie’s love--not even Daisie herself. Still less the man he had robbed of his love and cheated of his happiness. Would he indeed prosper at last on the wreck of another’s hopes? He looked so yearningly at Daisie that she murmured: “I--I have not told you yet how glad I am that you are well again.” “Glad? Oh, thank you for that sweet word! If you had been sorry, darling, it must have broken my heart. Now you will be truly mine! I have been making such plans, dear, for our future. As soon as you are well enough to travel, I want to take you abroad on our real bridal tour. Will you come with me?” “Yes, I will come.” Her cheeks were ashen, and the light of her eyes grew dim, but the promise was made, and he thanked her so eloquently, adding proudly: “Before long I shall make you love me as fondly as I love you. Will you try, Daisie?” “Yes, I will try, Royall.” But it startled her to find that she did not feel as tender over him as she used to do. It was only pity then, and now he was well and strong, he did not need it, and there was nothing to take its place. He continued anxiously: “When you get really fond of me, dear Daisie, perhaps you will forgive poor Lutie’s sins--will you?” She made no answer save a flash of her eyes, and he added: “Poor Lutie, I feel sorry for her, because she was so madly in love with Dallas Bain, and could stop at nothing to win his heart in return. Why, she has even followed him to California, still hoping to catch his heart in the rebound.” “Do not let us speak of either of them. I hate her--and I must forget him,” Daisie faltered valiantly. “Forgive me; I will not, dear,” regretting his slip of the tongue. He stayed with her an hour; then the nurse came in to say she had talked long enough to-day; Mr. Sherwood might stay longer to-morrow. He took the hint, and rose, though he grumbled that it was very hard to drive a man away so soon from his own sweet wife. The nurse went to the window so as not to embarrass the parting, and then Daisie whispered, with a kindling blush: “We had better begin all over again, Royall--like sweethearts, you know. You may come and court me every day, but we will pretend we are not married till--we go away--on our bridal tour.”