"Yes, just think how proud Josh will be of you. And think of the future. Your children and grandchildren can brag that your work appeared at the Exposition," Henry explained persuasively.

Felicity stared at him in shock. Her children? How could he say such a thing? But then she remembered that he did not know the details of her baby's death. All she had told him was that the baby was stillborn. Her grandfather would naturally assume that she would have other children. Even she herself had not yet given up hope completely. But what if Joshua's predictions were true? What if Caleb Joshua was the only child she would ever produce? What then would she leave behind her when her life came to an end? The answer was ridiculously simple: her pictures. For now, at least, they were her babies, the only thing she could produce of lasting value.

Feeling an unfamiliar surge of determination, Felicity turned back to Mr. Evans, who seemed a little surprised at the sudden change in her. "Thank you for your offer, Mr. Evans. I would be honored to have my pictures displayed in the Photography Pavilion."

Mr. Evans was absurdly grateful, at least to Felicity's mind. After he left, her grandfather was, too.

"Thank you for humoring me, my dear," he said. "I know how difficult it was for you to agree."

But she smiled reassuringly. "I simply decided you were right. Pride is a sin, but it's a sin to hide your light under a bushel, too."

Maxwell thought it best not to comment on that remark. Instead he said, "I suppose this means you'll stay at least until the Exposition opens. You'll have to be here to receive your accolades."

Her smile flickered only slightly. "If there are any accolades," she replied, but she was really thinking about the other part of his statement, the part about her staying until May. It was certainly a reasonable expectation. What disturbed her was the thought that if Joshua did not want her back, she would be staying long past May.

How happy her grandfather would be if that was the case. He would gladly keep her here. He had often mentioned wistfully that he wished he could do so. And Richard, too, would be pleased. More than pleased, she realized sadly. Although he had not tried to kiss her again, he had managed to make his feelings for her obvious nonetheless. He would be delighted to take Joshua's place in her life.

The problem was that no one could ever take Joshua's place.

"I'd better go now so you can get some rest," she said, eager to escape her grandfather's perceptive gaze. He was watching her as if he could read her thoughts.

He made an impatient noise. "There'll be time enough for rest when I'm dead. Right now I have a chance to look at the prettiest young woman in this city, and I'm going to take it. Sit down and we'll talk for a while."

Felicity frowned at the reference to his death, a reference he made rather too frequently for her peace of mind. "Dr. Lowell said that if you take care of yourself, you can live a long time," she reminded him.

"Pshaw, a few months one way or the other won't make that much difference to a man my age. I say, enjoy the time you've got. Better to live a short while and have fun than a long time and die of boredom," he told her with a wink that brought a grudging smile back to her mouth. She had come to love him very much in the few weeks she had known him, and the thought of his death disturbed her greatly, although she knew he did not want her to show it.

"In fact," he continued thoughtfully, adjusting the bedclothes with the air of one who has an important announcement to make, "I've been thinking about having a party."

"A party!" Felicity echoed, thoroughly shocked. How did he think he could host a party from his bed?

"Well, I wouldn't attend, of course, but Richard could serve as host," he explained, anticipating her objections. "And Isabel can muddle through as hostess if you stand beside her and make sure she doesn't faint," he added with a wink. "I want you to be introduced into Philadelphia society properly."

"But there's no need to introduce me into society," Felicity assured him quickly, once again fighting the sudden fear that she might indeed find herself a permanent resident of this fair city.

He frowned at that but decided not to pursue the argument. Instead he offered one against which she could make no protest. "And I'd like to hear music in this old house once more before I die."

Felicity frowned again at the mention of his death, but she could not object to his request. "If you want to have a party, I'm sure Richard would be glad to host it for you." Of that much she was certain. "And I'll help Isabel any way I can."

"Good," he said, grinning slyly. "And we can use the occasion to announce that your pictures will be displayed at the Exposition."

"You wouldn't dare!" Felicity cried, horrified at the very thought of having such a fuss made over her. Having the party in her honor was already more than she should allow.

"We'll talk about it later," he conceded, wisely not pressing her. She had already given him more than he had expected today. If he did not mention this again, she would think he had forgotten. "Now, why don't you read to me awhile?" he suggested with an innocent smile.

Felicity gave him a reproving glance and picked up the book lying on the bedside table. She took her customary chair beside the bed, but before she could begin reading, a discreet knock at the door interrupted her. It was Bellwood, who announced that Dr. Strong was here to see Mr. Maxwell.

"Well, send him right in," Henry exclaimed with a pleased smile.

"A new doctor?" Felicity inquired when Bellwood stepped out to summon the guest.

"An old friend," Henry said, still smiling.

A moment later, a stocky, middle-aged man with graying hair and muttonchop whiskers burst into the room and greeted Henry boisterously.

"How did you find Paris, Ezra?" Henry asked when he had returned the greeting.

"With very little difficulty," Ezra Strong replied, grinning slyly. "The trains stop there now, you know."

"Humph, thanks to me," Henry replied huffily.

Ezra chuckled, but he had lost interest in the banter. Instead, he was looking intently at Henry's face. "You're looking awfully chipper for a man who's supposed to be at death's door, Henry," he remarked after a moment. "How have you been feeling lately?"

"Always the doctor," Henry muttered in good-natured complaint. "I've been very well indeed, and it's because I've had such good nursing care." He gestured toward Felicity, who had risen from her chair and now stood beside the bed.

"By heaven," Dr. Strong exclaimed, noticing Felicity for the first time. "I'd look a lot better, too, if I got to see that face every day. Where'd you ever find her?"

"She's my granddaughter, you old fool," Henry said.

Dr. Strong's eyes widened in amazement. "Not little Felicity? You found her? By God, no wonder you look so much better." Dr. Strong hurried around to the other side of the bed and took Felicity's hand. "Ezra Strong, at your service, Miss Storm. It does my heart good to see you here at last, and I know this old coot feels exactly the same way."

"Old coot!" Henry protested in mock outrage.

"Thank you, Dr. Strong. But my name is Felicity Logan now. I'm married," Felicity told him, smiling politely even though mention of her marriage caused her a slight pang. Her grandfather's explanation caused her another.

"Her husband went back to Texas, but she's spending some time here with me, brightening my last days," Henry said.

"Well, whatever, we're glad you're here," Dr. Strong said before turning his shrewd glance back to Henry. "And speaking of 'last days,' how have you been feeling lately?"

"Too good to be stuck in this bed all the time," Henry grumbled.

Dr. Strong reached over and took Henry's wrist in one hand while he pulled a large gold pocket watch from his vest with the other. Felicity watched in fascination as the doctor took her grandfather's pulse. "Hmmmm," he said, examining Henry's fingertips before dropping his wrist and replacing the watch. Then he pulled down one of Henry's lower eyelids and studied the color of the skin revealed there. "Hmmmm," he said again.

"Quit playing doctor and tell me about your trip to France, Ezra," Henry ordered, jerking away from the doctor's grasp. "He went over there for his daughter's wedding," he explained to Felicity. "She married a count."

"How exciting," Felicity exclaimed, glad for something to turn her thoughts away from her grandfather's health and her troubled marriage. "Do tell us all about it."

"In a while. First I think I'll examine your grandfather," Dr, Strong said, moving toward the door.

"Examine me? Whatever for?" Henry shot Felicity a puzzled look, but she was as puzzled as he.

"Because I think you may have gone and gotten well while I was out of the country," Ezra announced as he opened the bedroom door and stuck his head out into the hall. "Bellwood! Run next door and tell them to give you my black bag, will you? There's a good fellow." Then he turned and walked back over to the bed. Seeing Felicity's confusion, he explained, "I live right next door. Henry built this house so he'd have a doctor at his beck and call."

"What a liar you are, Strong," Henry chided him. "You came here after I did and only so you'd have a rich patient close by whenever you needed money."

Dr. Strong found that remark hilarious, and while he was laughing, the import of his earlier words finally registered with Felicity. "Do you really think Grandfather is getting better?" she asked.

The doctor sobered immediately. "I won't know until I examine him, of course, but I can say for sure that your presence has improved his disposition. Why, he used to be downright nasty!"

That, Felicity realized, was another joke, but when she smiled, her smile was in appreciation for the small hope he had given her. In a few minutes the doctor's bag arrived, and Felicity went out into the hall to await the verdict.

"Well, how much longer do I have, Ezra?" Henry asked resignedly when his friend had completed his examination.

Dr. Strong finished putting his instruments back in his case before he replied. "What does Lowell say?"

"Not much, but I don't think he holds out any hope for me. He as much as told me that if I got out of bed again, I'd be signing my own death warrant," Henry grumbled.

Dr. Strong shook his head. "I hate to contradict a colleague, but I think the best thing you could do is get out of this bed."

"Trying to get rid of me, Ezra?" Henry asked with a sardonic grin.

"No, I just happen to think that, in your case at least, Lowell has made a mistake in his diagnosis."

"But you said he was the best!" Henry protested.

"He is the best, in his field. That's why I recommended him when I thought your problem was with your heart. Now I think we both made a mistake. I'm starting to think that spell you had wasn't your heart at all, or if it was, you've made a complete recovery. I think you had a much more serious problem in your mind."

"In my brain?" Henry asked in alarm.

"No, of course not," Ezra assured him hastily. "I said your 'mind.' I think you made yourself sick because you couldn't find that little girl out there," he said, gesturing toward the hallway, where Felicity waited. "Now that she's here, you aren't sick anymore… or at least you won't be if you get out of that bed before you waste away to nothing."

Henry stared at him for a long moment as he digested this last piece of advice. "Ezra, hand me my pants," he ordered, throwing back the bedclothes.

A few minutes later Dr. Strong found Felicity out in the hall and escorted her to the downstairs parlor, where they could talk in privacy. He explained his theory for her grandfather's illness.

"It's hard to believe that a person could get so sick just from being sad," she said when he had finished.

"The human mind is a powerful force, Mrs. Logan. Any doctor will tell you that," Dr. Strong said. "I'll have two patients, both with the same problem. I treat them both exactly the same way. One dies and one recovers to live an active, healthy life. What makes the difference?' He shrugged. "Some call it 'the will to live." That's as good a name as any. I think Henry lost his will to live when he couldn't find you, and I fully believe that if you hadn't shown up when you did, he'd be dead by now."

Breathing a silent prayer of thanks, Felicity sniffed back the tears of relief that flooded her eyes. "How did you get so smart, Dr. Strong?" she asked with a wavering smile.