For three long weeks I fought with death at her bedside, and in the end I conquered.

The fever left her, and thanks to my treatment, there was no single scar upon her lovely face.

During eight days her mind wandered without ceasing, and it was then I learned how deep and perfect was her love for me.

For all this while she did nothing but rave of me, and the secret terror of her heart was disclosed--that I should cease to care for her, that her beauty and love might pall upon me so that I should leave her, that 'the flower maid,' for so she named Lily, who dwelt across the sea should draw me back to her by magic; this was the burden of her madness.

At length her senses returned and she spoke, saying: 'How long have I lain ill, husband ?' I told her and she said, 'And have you nursed me all this while, and through so foul a sickness ?' 'Yes, Otomie, I have tended you.' 'What have I done that you should be so good to me ?' she murmured.