It occurred on the afternoon of the first day that Maitland showed the slightest improvement.  I remember distinctly how he had fallen into a troubled sleep from which he would occasionally cry out in a half-articulate manner, and how Gwen and I sat beside him waiting for him to awaken.  Suddenly he said something in his sleep that riveted our attention.  “I tell you, Doc,” he muttered, “though love of her burn my heart to a cinder, I will never trade upon her gratitude, nor seek to profit by the promise she made her father.  Never, so help me God!”

Gwen gave me one hurried, sweeping glance and then, throwing herself upon the sofa, buried her face in the cushions.  I forbore to disturb her till I saw that Maitland was waking, when I laid my hand upon her head and asked her to dry her eyes lest he should notice her tears.

“May I speak to him?” she said, with a look of resolution upon her face.  I could not divine her thoughts, as she smiled at me through her tears, but I had no hesitancy in relying upon her judgment, so I gave her permission and started to leave the room.

“Please don’t go,” she said to me.  “I would prefer you should hear what I have to say.”  I reseated myself and Gwen drew near the bedside.  Maitland was now awake and following her every motion.

“I have something I want to say to you,” she said, bending over him.  “Do you feel strong enough to listen?” He nodded his head and she continued.  “You have already done a great deal for me, yet I come to you now to ask a further favour,—­I will not say a sacrifice —­greater than all the rest.  Will you try to grant it?”

The rich, deep tones of her voice, vibrant with tender earnestness, seemed to me irresistible.

“I will do anything in my power,” the invalid replied, never once moving his eyes from hers.

“Then Heaven grant it be within your power!” she murmured, scarcely above a whisper.  “Try not to despise me for what I am about to say.  Be lenient in your judgment.  My happiness, perhaps my very life, depends upon this issue.  I love you more than life; try to love me, if only a little!”

I watched the effect of this declaration with a good deal of anxiety.  For fully half a minute Maitland seemed to doubt the evidence of his senses.  I saw him pinch himself to see if he were awake, and being thus reassured, he said slowly:  “Try—­to—­love—­you!  In vain have I tried not to love you from the moment I first saw you.  Oh, my God! how I adore you!” He reached his arms out toward her, and, in a moment, they were locked in each other’s embrace.

I saw the first kiss given and then stole stealthily from the room.  There was now no need of a doctor.  The weird, irresistible alchemy of love was at work and the reign of medicine was over.  I did not wish to dim the newly found light by my shadow, and,—­well,—­I wanted to see Jeannette, so I left.