I was sitting by the window one morning, looking out upon the moving throng in the opposite street, when the door of my room was suddenly opened. I supposed that one of the physicians had come to see me, and I waited for him to speak.
It was Rayel who spoke my name, but somehow his voice did not seem quite natural, and I turned to greet him.
“This is our 'Woman,'” said he, advancing toward me with Hester upon his arm.
I rose feebly to my feet, confused by the sudden announcement, and took her extended hand. We looked into each other's eyes for a moment without speaking. My own were rapidly filling with tears, and I could see her but dimly.
“What a fine outlook you have!” she said, in a tremulous voice, turning suddenly to the window and looking out upon the trees now half stripped of their foliage by the autumn winds. We both stood staring out of the window in silence. For my part, I could not have spoken if I had known what to say. How she had changed! The blushing little miss who had awakened the pangs of first love in my youthful heart was a beautiful young woman, now full grown and arrayed in costly finery. Rayel was the first to speak.
“You must be glad to meet again--you have loved each other so long,” said he.
Honest Rayel! He knew our hearts--their longings, their histories, and also the vanity and pride that dwelt in them. Why should there be any concealment between her and me?
“It has been a long time--a very long time to me, Hester, for I have loved you ever since we first met.”
She turned toward me, her eyes filled with tears, and I drew her to my heart and kissed her fondly.
“We have only known each other as children, Kendric,” said she. “Your heart may change and mine may change--let us wait and see.”
Then she left us, promising to come again next day.
Hester and her maid looked in upon me every morning after that, until I was able to leave the hospital. During these visits we told each other the eventful story of our lives since the night of our parting at her father's gate. Her first appearance on the stage had been, as I suspected, literally represented in the play. For years she had been permitted to accompany her father behind the scenes, and nights when the cast was short she had played small parts with great success. The glamour and excitement of stage life had proved distasteful to her. She assured me that it was her intention never to go back to it, and this strengthened my hope that she would some day consent to become my wife. Rayel had told her, during my illness, the strange story of his life. She knew nothing, however, of his wonderful powers, until I had related to her some of the experiences which had revealed them to me. He had said nothing to her, I learned, about our discovery of the picture.