"Tell me he will live!" Patsy's heart sank, but she summoned her wits by an effort.
"I am not a surgeon, my dear, and do not know how serious the wound may be," she answered, "but I assure you it will gladden his heart to see you again.

He thinks and speaks only of you." The girl-wife studied her face a moment and then dropped her hand and hurried after her mother.
"I fibbed, Uncle," said Patsy despondently.

"I fibbed willfully.
But--how could I help it when she looked at me that way ?".