But this they did not know, those two young creatures! To them it resembled the sleep of death, and they both knelt beside her, frantic with self-reproach, crying and calling to her to open her eyes and speak. When she finally emerged from the swoon, she looked from one to the other of them. Thinking she was dying, and that the wish she could not frame in words was her last request, Meg sobbingly cried, “Yes, dear Mrs. Malloy, I _will_ marry him if he wants me, for I do love him.”
Whereupon Robert, putting his arm around Meg, said solemnly, “Mother darling, it shall be as you wish. We love each other, and will send for the priest at once if you say so.”
Mrs. Malloy closed her eyes from sheer weakness, but even in her half-swoon the look of youth stole back to her features, and a beneficent expression of peace came over them. When she felt strong enough to speak, she asked to be helped to the couch.
The young couple bent over her solicitously, and when she again opened her eyes, Robert asked in a low voice, “Shall I send for the doctor for you, and the priest for us, Mother dear?”
She smiled faintly. “I do not need the doctor, for I simply fainted. As for the priest, suit yourselves, but don’t send on my account, for I think I will live till morning. And now, if Margie will come to help me, I am going to my room to lie down. I would rather have you than a servant, dear. Good-night, my boy. I will send Margie back to you soon.”
A little later, Meg whispered to Robert, “I believe she fainted on purpose!”
“Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet.”
Meg was writing to her aunt, and Robert leaned over her shoulder and read: “So I will be married here, and then we will take a trip for Robert’s health. Auntie, please don’t suspect me of marrying for money, but did you guess they were rich? _I_ didn’t, till I came here, and then I saw. Most of the rich people we know make such a vulgar display, and that is why, I suppose, I did not suspect it of them. I feel like a fairy princess—”
Meg stopped writing and leaned back in her chair. “Robert Malloy,” she said with pretended severity, “I am surprised that your mother never taught you it was impolite to look over people’s shoulders. I suppose she wanted to leave part of your education to me.”