To-morrow morning, after I have visited the
wards and you have taken your breakfast, I will come, and you shall
tell me the story of your life."
"I will do whatever you think best," said the lady.
Traverse lifted her hand to his lips, bowed and retreated from the
cell.
That same night Traverse wrote to his friend Herbert Greyson, in
Mexico, and to his mother and Clara, describing his interesting
patient, though as yet he could tell but little of her, not even in
fact her real name, but promising fuller particulars next time, and
declaring hi intention of bringing her home for the present to their
house.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
END OF THE LADY'S STORY.
Of the present naught is bright,
But in the coming years I see
A brilliant and a cheerful light,
Which burns before thee constantly.
--W. D. GALLAGHER
At the appointed hour the next morning Traverse Rocke repaired to
the cell of his mysterious patient.
He was pleased to find her up, dressed with more than usual care and
taste and looking, upon the whole, much better in health and spirits
than upon the preceding day.
"Ah, my young hero, it is you; you see that I am ready for you," she
said, holding out her hand.
"You are looking very well this morning," said Traverse, smiling.
"Yes, hope is a fine tonic, Doctor Rocke.
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