Remember he loves you, and be kind."
Up to that moment, Isabel had not suspected that she would be obliged to
see him alone. She was furious with Aunt Francesca for thus betraying
her, but no retreat was possible. The nurse smilingly ushered her in,
passed her almost on the threshold, and went out, quietly closing the
door.
Allison, as eager as a boy of twenty, had half risen in bed. The injured
hand was hidden by the sheet, but the other was outstretched in welcome.
"Isabel," he breathed. "My Isabel!"
Isabel did not move. "How do you do?" she said primly.
"I'm sorry I can't get you a chair, dear. Come close, won't you?"
Isabel limped painfully to the chair that was farthest from him, dragged
it over to the bed, and sat down--just out of his reach. Below, the
rumble of wheels announced that Madame had gone back home. Unless she
walked, Isabel was stranded at Kent's for a full hour.
"My note," Allison was saying. "You got it, didn't you?"
"Yes. It came while I was at luncheon to-day."
It flashed upon him for an instant that the reality was disappointing,
that this was not all as he had dreamed it would be, but pride bade him
conceal his disappointment as best he could.
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