It was soon over, and while Edward ran in to bid the servants beware of

alarming their mistress, Dr. Scott put up his instruments and Miss Muir

used salts, water, and wine so skillfully that Gerald was able to walk

to his room, leaning on the old man, while the girl supported the

wounded arm, as no sling could be made on the spot. As he entered the

chamber, Coventry turned, put out his left hand, and with much feeling

in his fine eyes said simply, "Miss Muir, I thank you."

The color came up beautifully in her pale cheeks as she pressed the hand

and without a word vanished from the room. Lucia and the housekeeper

came bustling in, and there was no lack of attendance on the invalid. He

soon wearied of it, and sent them all away but Ned, who remorsefully

haunted the chamber, looking like a comely young Cain and feeling like

an outcast.

"Come here, lad, and tell me all about it. I was wrong to be

domineering. Forgive me, and believe that I care for your happiness more

sincerely than for my own."

These frank and friendly words healed the breach between the two

brothers and completely conquered Ned. Gladly did he relate his love

passages, for no young lover ever tires of that amusement if he has a

sympathizing auditor, and Gerald was sympathetic now. For an hour did

he lie listening patiently to the history of the growth of his brother's

passion. Emotion gave the narrator eloquence, and Jean Muir's character

was painted in glowing colors. All her unsuspected kindness to those

about her was dwelt upon; all her faithful care, her sisterly interest

in Bella, her gentle attentions to their mother, her sweet forbearance

with Lucia, who plainly showed her dislike, and most of all, her

friendly counsel, sympathy, and regard for Ned himself.

"She would make a man of me. She puts strength and courage into me as no

one else can. She is unlike any girl I ever saw; there's no

sentimentality about her; she is wise, and kind, and sweet. She says

what she means, looks you straight in the eye, and is as true as steel.

I've tried her, I know her, and--ah, Gerald, I love her so!"

Here the poor lad leaned his face into his hands and sighed a sigh that

made his brother's heart ache.

"Upon my soul, Ned, I feel for you; and if there was no obstacle on her

part, I'd do my best for you. She loves Sydney, and so there is nothing

for it but to bear your fate like a man."

"Are you sure about Sydney? May it not be some one else?" and Ned eyed

his brother with a suspicious look.

Coventry told him all he knew and surmised concerning his friend, not

forgetting the letter. Edward mused a moment, then seemed relieved, and

said frankly, "I'm glad it's Sydney and not you. I can bear it better."




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