“That will be very hard, don’t you think, little wife?  How shall I be able to hide my love from Gussie?”

“Oh! you will be coming here after this just to see papa, you know,” looking at him archly, “and I fancy she will find little to interest her in the man that has so openly announced his approaching marriage to a lady who is unknown.  I’ll not object, perhaps, to let you stay—­with papa, you know—­on the nights that I take my turn to sit up with him.  But there is his bell, and oh!  Guy, look at the clock!”

Dexie’s heart beat fast as she hurried to her father’s room, but she was needlessly alarmed.  His unusual sleep had renewed his strength, but Dexie, fearing the worst, asked anxiously: 

“Are you in much pain, dear papa?”

“Oh! no, child; I feel first-rate.  I guess that bad spell I had at bedtime is going to do me for to-night; but I am thirsty, so when you get me fixed up you can go to bed.  You must be tired to death, my dear girl,” he added, as Dexie busied herself about him.  “What time is it?  Not past two, surely?  Why, I must be turning over a new leaf, eh, Dexie?”

Guy Traverse stepped to the door as Dexie entered the room, fearing also that Mr. Sherwood was worse, but hearing his cheerful voice he thought he would surprise him by showing himself, and he stepped to the bedside, his hands clasped behind him, and a curious smile played over his face as he waited.

“Bless my soul!  Traverse, what are you doing here at this time of night?” was the astonished remark as Mr. Sherwood turned and saw who was beside him.

Traverse laughed pleasantly and drew a chair to the bedside.

“I have been waiting in the next room, fearing you might be ill again at your usual hour and would need my services.”

“And a sorry night you have had of it, I expect.  Well, you don’t seem much the worse of it, after all,” and he turned and looked curiously towards Dexie.

“What mischief have you been up to now, Dexie, that you look so guilty?  Come here to me directly!”

“Are you going to scold me, papa?” and she stooped over and kissed him.

“I would like to find out first if you deserve it.  I hope you have not been quarrelling with Traverse, after what I said to you?”

“Well, not all the time,” she blushingly answered.  “He would not go home at the proper time, though I tried to turn him out of the house.”

“I see!  Then it was the first part of the night you did not agree.  And what, may I ask, have you been doing since the row was settled?  Out with it now,” holding her face between his two hands and looking into her eyes.

“Dear papa, that is not fair,” as she tried to hide her face in his arms.

Mr. Sherwood felt sure that Guy had come to some understanding with her, and wanted to make her own it, but Guy knew she would not care to be the first to speak of it, so said in a happy voice: