"And will you heed us?" Morris asked again, while Katy after a moment
consented; and glad of this respite from what he knew to a certainty
would be, Morris dealt out her medicine, and for an instant felt her
rapid pulse, but did not retain her hand within his own, nor lay his
other upon her head, as he had sometimes done.

He could not do that now, and so he hurried away, finding the world into
which he went far different from what it had seemed an hour ago. Then
all was bright and hopeful; but now, alas! a darker night was gathering
around him than any he had ever known, and the patients visited that day
marveled at the whiteness of his face, asking if he were ill? Yes, he
answered them truly, and for two days he was not seen again, but
remained at home alone, where none but his God was witness to what he
suffered; but when the third day came he went again among his sick,
grave, quiet and unchanged to outward appearance, unless it was that
his voice, always so kind, had now a kinder tone and his manner was
tenderer, more sympathizing. Inwardly, however, there was a change, for
Morris Grant had lain himself upon the sacrificial altar, willing to be
and to endure whatever God should appoint, knowing that all would
eventually be for his good. To the farmhouse he went every day, talking
most with Helen now, but never forgetting who it was sitting so demurely
in the armchair, or flitting about the room, for Katy was gaining
rapidly. Love perhaps had had nothing to do with her dangerous illness,
but it had much to do with her recovery, and those not in the secret
wondered to see how she improved, her cheeks growing round and full and
her eyes shining with returning health and happiness.

At Helen's instigation Katy had deferred Wilford's visit four weeks
instead of three, but in that time there had come two letters from him,
letters so full of anxiety and sympathy for "his poor little Katy who