"He came just in time to find trouble.

An hour ago I took a bowl of broth to him and a plate of sparrow-grass, but he said dolefully that the food would stick in his throat.

I told him he was not wounded in the throat.

Then he said it was in his heart, and that such a wound kills the appetite.

I believe he's in love, Baron Ned," she concluded, leaning toward me and whispering earnestly.
"With you, Betty ?" I asked.
"No, no, with some one else." "Would it make you unhappy ?" I asked.
"To be in love ?" she asked, arching her eyebrows.
"No.