"You knew it!"
"Several days ago."
"Why, who told you?"
"You both told me."
"We both told you!" exclaimed nurse and patient as they stared first at
each other, then at the doctor.
"Some days ago," said Dr. Gladwin, with a serious face and impressive
manner, "a certain nurse was waiting for me at my office--early in
the morning. She told me she had discovered the identity of a certain
patient. Her voice was tremulous. One hand she pressed tight against
her heart to silence its beating. She knew, as I did, that loud
reverberations might awaken sleeping neighbors. She had eyes. Possibly
you have noticed those eyes, Mr. Alton."
"I live in them," said Cyrus.
"Well, deep, down deep within those eyes I could see the Thing that
makes the world go round; the tender, unchanging glow that is life to a
broken lover."
Here Cyrus smiled, nodded, gulped, started to say something and gave it
up.
Dr. Gladwin continued. "She did not tell me she hoped that particular
patient would recover. She told me he _must_ recover. She made it clear
that nothing in this world, or in any other world, was to be considered
until that young man was out of danger."
"Oh, how can you make fun of me!" protested Ruth.
"Make fun of you! Make fun of the most sacred thing in human life!"
"No, Ruth," said Cyrus, "he is not making fun of you. He is simply
reciting the most beautiful of all earthly poems."
"Yes, he speaks truly," said the doctor: "the oldest in the world yet
always young. An entrancing poem, containing also the secret of the
young man with the broken head. But he hides his secret in a louder
way. He sings it to any listener--and all day long."
"Oh, come now," from Cyrus. "I say, Doctor, you----"
Ruth laughed. "Don't interrupt. Please go right on, Doctor. It's just
lovely!"
Dr. Gladwin obeyed. "Metaphorically he engages an auditorium and a
military band to announce the coming tidings. Then, to the assembled
multitude, he shouts the joyful secret. But when alone with me, those
public methods are not necessary. If I mention, in a casual way, the
nurse with the eloquent eyes, the color rushes into his pale face, his
lips quiver, his eyes become moist and his pulse jumps and dances like
a thing possessed."
Cyrus laughed and leaned back against his pillow. "Yes and ten times
more so when I'm in her presence and can see her."
"Of course," said Dr. Gladwin, "a healthy, normal habit. Long life to
it! There's no better way to impart the ever welcome tidings 'I am in
love, and she's mine!' But what a tonic, this carefully guarded secret!
Never, since the world began was cure so swift."
Then, in a more serious tone, but with his friendly smile:
"And all deserved! To both of you has come the high reward of Courage
and Devotion."
Ruth returned his smile, the color still in her cheeks.
Cyrus closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of fathomless content.
"It all seems too good to be true," he murmured.
[Illustration: THE END]
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
Punctuation and possible typographical errors have been corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling, including hyphenation, has been
preserved.