"Oh!" Another little cry, not of joy this time, of anger, rather. There
was silence then for a space, while the man turned his face to the wall
and the girl tried to still the beating of her heart and control
herself sufficiently to be able to speak.
"Then, Martin," she whispered, "you saved Lyman for me, because you
thought I loved him?"
He lifted a protesting hand as if pleading for silence.
She went on haltingly, "Why, Martin, you saved the wrong one!"
He raised his head from the pillow then; a strangling sound came from
his lips.
The girl's face burned with blushes but her eyes looked fearlessly into
his as she said again, "You saved the wrong one. Why, Martin--Martin--
if you wanted to save the man I love--you--you should have saved
yourself!"
He read the truth in her eyes; his arms reached out for her then and
her lips moved to his as steel to a magnet.
When he spoke she marveled at the tenderness in his voice; she never
dreamed, even in her brightest romantic dreams, that a man's voice
could hold so much tenderness. "Amanda, I began to read my own heart
that day you found me in the woods and helped and comforted me."
"Oh, Martin," she pressed her lips upon his bandaged head, her eyes
were glowing with that "light that never was on land or sea"--"Oh,
Martin, I've loved _you_ ever since that day you saved my life by
throwing me into the bean-patch and then kissed my burnt hand."
"Not your hand this time, sweetheart," he whispered, "your lips!"
"I'm glad," Amanda said after they had told each other the old, old
story, "I'm so glad I kept my castles in Spain. When you went away and
didn't write I almost wrecked them purposely. I thought they'd go
tumbling into ashes but somehow I braced them up again. Now they're
more beautiful than ever. I pity the people who own no castles in
Spain, who have no dreams that won't come true exactly as they dreamed.
I'll hold on to my dreams even if I know they can never come true
exactly as I dream them. I wouldn't give up my castles in Spain. I'll
have them till I die. But, Martin, that automobile might have killed
you!"
"Nonsense. I'm just scratched a bit. I'll be out of this in no time."
"That rascal of a Lyman--you thought I could marry him?"
"I couldn't believe it, yet he said so. Some liar, isn't he?"
"Yes, but not quite so black as you thought. He is going to marry a
girl named Amanda, one from his college town, and they are going to
live in California."
"Good riddance!"
"Yes. The engagement was announced last week while you were away. He
knew you had probably not heard of it and saw a chance to make you
jealous."