"Yes," she sobbed, her face still buried in the pillow. She had borne
the strain of continued anxiety so long that she could not stop her
tears, now they had once started.

It was with a very thankful heart she watched him take a pack of
letters from the coat she brought to his bedside, and draw out a sealed
envelope.

"Well, I never once thought of looking among those letters for money,"
she exclaimed, as he held it up with a smile.

His investments of the summer before had prospered beyond his greatest
hopes, he told her. "Brother Rob is looking after my interests out West,
as well as his own," he explained, "and as his father-in-law is the
grand mogul of the place, I have the inside track. Then that firm I went
security for in New York is nearly on its feet again, and I'll have back
every dollar I ever paid out for them. Nobody ever lost anything by
those men in the long run. We'll be on top again by this time next year,
little wife; so don't borrow any more trouble on that score."

The doctor made his last visit that afternoon. It really seemed as if
there would never be any more dark days at the little cottage.

"The clouds have all blown away and left us their silver linings," said
Mrs. Sherman the day her husband was able to go out-of-doors for the
first time. He walked down to the post-office, and brought back a letter
from the West. It had such encouraging reports of his business that
he was impatient to get back to it. He wrote a reply early in the
afternoon, and insisted on going to mail it himself.