The note ran as follows: 

“My dear miss Vosburgh:—­Arthur became conscious a little before twelve.  He was fearfully weak, and for a time his life appeared to flicker.  I alone was permitted to be with him.  After a while I whispered that you had been here.  He smiled and soon fell into a quiet sleep.  Our physician now gives us strong hopes.

“Sincerely and gratefully yours,

“Charlotte Strahan.”

Marian, who had been sleepless from thoughts more evenly divided between her friend and Merwyn than she would have admitted even to herself, handed the note to her father.  Her face indicated both gladness and perplexity.  He read and returned it with a smile.

“Papa,” she said, “you have a man’s straightforward common-sense.  I am only a little half-girl and half-woman.  Do you know, I almost fear that both Mrs. Strahan and Mr. Merwyn believe I am virtually engaged to Arthur.”

“Their belief can’t engage you,” said her father, laughing.  “Young Strahan will get well, thanks to you and Merwyn.  Mrs. Strahan said that both were greatly changed.  Merwyn certainly must have a hardy nature, for he improves under a steady frost.”

“Papa!” cried Marian, with a vivid blush, “you are a deeper and more dangerous ally of Mr. Menvyn than mamma.  I am on my guard against you both, and I shall retire at once before you begin a panegyric that will cease only when you find I am asleep.”

“Yes, my dear, go and sleep the sleep of the unjust!”

CHAPTER XXII.

A girl’s thoughts and impulses.

Sleep, which Marian said would cut short her father’s threatened panegyrics of Merwyn, did not come speedily.  The young girl had too much food for thought.

She knew that Mrs. Strahan had not, during the past summer, misunderstood her son’s faithful nurse.  In spite of all prejudice and resentment, in spite of the annoying fact that he would intrude so often upon her thoughts, she had to admit the truth that he was greatly changed, and that, while she might be the cause, she could take to herself no credit for the transformation.  To others she had given sincere and cordial encouragement.  Towards him she had been harsh and frigid.  He must indeed possess a hardy nature, or else a cold persistence that almost made her shiver, it was so indomitable.

She felt that she did not understand him; and she both shrunk from his character and was fascinated by it.  She could not now charge him with disregard of her feelings and lack of delicacy.  His visits had ceased when he believed them to be utterly repugnant; he had not availed himself of the opportunity to see her often afforded by Strahan’s illness, and had been quick to take the hint that he could send his reports to her father.  There had been no effort to make her aware of his self-sacrificing devotion