As the weeks passed by and Mr. Sherwood grew no worse, it seemed impossible
to think that the "grim messenger" was really lurking in the shadow, for he
bore his illness with such patience and cheerfulness that only those who
were constantly about him realized how he really suffered.
Mr. Traverse was always a welcome visitor, for Mr. Sherwood could never
forget that awful moment when death stared them both in the face, and how
Traverse had kept the flying timbers from crashing into his pinioned body,
receiving on his own head and arm the blows he might have escaped.
Dexie had listened with averted face and tear-dimmed eyes to the story as
it fell from her father's lips, and she found it hard to meet her hero
without betraying something of the feeling which his noble conduct had
awakened in her heart.
His frequent visits were both a joy and a pain to her, though why she felt
glad to hear his step, yet dreaded to meet his glance, she could not have
explained.
Gussie was able now to meet Mr. Traverse without that feeling of
mortification which she experienced after she had read his love-letter
before her guests.
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