"It's just something I've got nervous about," she said, while her eyes
shone with sudden tears. "But I won't trouble you with it to-night.
There's no such great hurry. We can talk about it in the morning if
you're better then. Oh, I forgot! You're going away!"

"No," said the young man, with pathetic dignity, "I'm not going if you
need my help. But you're right about me tonight, Bessie. I'm not fit. I'm
afraid I can't grasp anything to-night. Tell me in the morning. Oh, don't
be afraid!" he cried out at the glance she gave the decanters. "That's
over, now; you could put them in my hands and be safe enough. I'm going
back to bed, and in the morning--"

He rose and went toward the door. "If that doctor's man comes to-night
you can send him away again. He needn't bother."

"All right, Alan," she said, fondly. "Good-night. Don't worry about me.
Try to get some sleep."

"And you must sleep, too. You can trust me, Bessie."

He came back after he got out of the room and looked in. "Bess, if you're
anxious about it, if you don't feel perfectly sure of me, you can take
those things to your room with you." He indicated the decanters with a
glance.

"Oh no! I shall leave them here. It wouldn't be any use your just keeping
well overnight. You'll have to keep well a long time, Alan, if you're
going to help me. And that's the reason I'd rather talk to you when you
can give your whole mind to what I say."