East of the Shadows

"Who was it?" he asked lightly. "Shall I be jealous that a friend was with you when I wasn't?"

"I was with Isabella Vernon." As soon as the words were spoken a sudden fear seized her, but it was too late to recall them.

"Dear old Isabella!" he said. "How was she? It seems ages since I have seen her." But he did not wait for an answer to his question, but continued, "You would be safe with her. Isabella was always a good friend. Do you know, I have a piece of news for you? Rob said to-day that unless I had another set-back I might go down-stairs in a day or two."

"That is good news indeed," said Philippa warmly. "And soon you will be able to go out and see all the beauty of Bessmoor for yourself. We will have the pony-carriage and I will drive you--as soon as ever he thinks you are fit for it."

"I suppose he wouldn't let me get on a horse?" he said, rather wistfully.

"Not for a while, I am afraid. I know it is difficult to be patient, but driving will be almost as good, won't it?"

"Dearest, of course it will be better than anything so long as you are with me. Believe me I am not impatient. I want nothing in the world but you--I didn't mean that. What do I care if I never see a horse again? Do you know, my darling, I wouldn't really mind if I never got quite strong so long as we were together, but I can't bear it for you. You are so good, so dear, but I know you must feel tied to the side of an invalid. You who ought to have nothing but the sunshine of life, and who should never know a hint of shadow if I could spare it you."

"I have told you that you must not think of me," replied the girl. "Now, if you will lie down I will get my work. I have been very idle to-day."

He allowed her to place the cushions and establish him in comfort, and then she fetched her embroidery frame from the corner where it stood and seated herself in a low chair beside him.

"Phil," he said suddenly, "you are changed."

"In what way?" she asked quietly.

"You are different to my memory of you--before the shadows--a little different to what you were. Your face has changed too. You were always beautiful, but now your face has gained in beauty, although I should have said that would be impossible. You were so--oh, I don't know how to describe it--so illusive, like a streak of fairy gold flitting through life, but now you are so steadfast and so dear--such a strength to me in my weakness. So thoughtful and so tender to me when I have been thrown a helpless log upon your hands."