In the moment
when he looked away from her, she gently took her hand from him, and
turned her head aside on the pillow. "_Can_ it be?" she thought, with
a flutter of delicious fear at her heart, with a glow of delicious
confusion burning on her cheeks. "_Can_ it be?"
The doctor made another sign to Kirke. He understood it, and rose
immediately. The momentary discomposure in his face and manner had both
disappeared. He was satisfied in his own mind that he had successfully
kept his secret, and in the relief of feeling that conviction he had
become himself again.
"Good-by till to-morrow," he said, as he left the room.
"Good-by," she answered, softly, without looking at him.
Mr. Merrick took the chair which Kirke had resigned, and laid his hand
on her pulse. "Just what I feared," remarked the doctor; "too quick by
half."
She petulantly snatched away her wrist. "Don't!" she said, shrinking
from him. "Pray don't touch me!"
Mr. Merrick good-humoredly gave up his place to the nurse. "I'll return
in half an hour," he whispered, "and carry her back to bed. Don't let
her talk. Show her the pictures in the newspaper, and keep her quiet in
that way.
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