I did not dare to utter the question with which my whole soul was full.

I could only look my entreaty.

He misunderstood it, as was natural enough.
"She does not know yet what is in store for her," were his words; and I could only lie still, and look at him helplessly, and try not to show the despair that was sinking me deeper and deeper into semi-unconsciousness.

"When she comes to herself, she will have to be told; but you will be on your feet, then, and will be allowed, no doubt, to soften the blow for her by your comfort and counsel.

The fact that it must have been you, if not he--" "_He!"_ Did I shout it, or was the shout simply in my own mind?
I trembled as I rose on my elbow.