“GOD HELP US!”
The sky was as blue as summer, the air was soft and bland, and the
little, laughing wavelets at Gull Beach, rippled by the April breeze,
rolled softly in upon the yellow sands.
It was three weeks now since Daisie and Annette had come away from New
York back to Maryland--three weeks since the morning when Daisie had
stooped over Royall while he held her hands, and kissed him with cold,
unresponsive lips, while she said:
“God help us both to bear this sorrow!”
She could not hate him, or be angry with him, because his love and
his affliction made her generous heart very kind and pitiful, and she
realized that the cross of suffering lay heavy on them both.
So her beautiful eyes grew dim with tears as she gave the kiss his eyes
entreated, and whispered pitifully and prayerfully:
“God help us both to bear our sorrow!”
“If you would only try to love me!” he groaned entreatingly, and
Daisie answered, with gentle patience:
“I have been trying ever since--that night when you were hurt. I will
keep on trying.”
“You are an angel, my wife!” he cried passionately, realizing
remorsefully how unworthy he was of her noble sacrifice, yet not
wishing himself dead and out of the way so that she might be happy.
He was too selfish for that, and madly jealous in his heart of the
reappearance of Dallas Bain in so enviable a position.
So when Mrs. Fleming came to see him, after the girls had gone away,
he wished her godspeed when she told him frankly that she intended to
follow Lord Werter to California, and try to win him in spite of all
that had passed.
“He is the only man I ever loved, though I have always had plenty of
lovers,” she said; “and I was willing to take him, in spite of his
seeming obscurity. Now, with his title, he is more desirable than ever,
and I mean to throw myself in his way and win him yet if woman’s wit
can accomplish it. It will be a relief to you, too, if I get him, for
you can never be safe over Daisie until he is married to another.”
“No, never; and I am very sorry he ever turned up again. I hoped in my
heart that the fellow was dead. Go in and win if you can, Lutie, and
I’ll give you a diamond sunburst worth fifty thousand dollars for a
bridal gift!” cried Royall, who felt that the price would be small to
pay for security over Daisie; for he was always dreading that she might
secure a divorce from him in order to marry her old lover.
Meanwhile, Daisie and Annette had traveled to Gull Beach, and although
Aunt Alice was taken by surprise, she was very glad to see her niece,
and made her very welcome.
“I thought you would be so fine and gay in your grand New York mansion
that you would never care to visit my humble cottage again,” she
exclaimed; and Daisie answered evasively:
“I have been leading too gay a life, Aunt Alice, in the whirl of social
life, and now I am threatened with nervous prostration; so I must keep
very quiet for a few weeks, and I knew your home was the very best
haven of rest I could find.”
“Dear knows you’ll find it quiet enough here, and I’ll do my best to
make you well again,” replied the old lady cordially, for she was very
proud of Daisie and the grand match she had made.
But she soon found that wealth does not always confer happiness; for,
day by day, Daisie drooped like a strangely blighted flower, until at
last she found that the girl was threatened with a serious illness.
“I don’t like the look of you, Daisie. You’ve been failing steadily
ever since you came here, ten days ago. I don’t believe you’ve ever
smiled since you came, and you don’t eat as much as a bird. Now you
don’t feel well enough to rise from your bed, your face is red and
feverish, and your pulse fairly frightens me. I’m going to send for
Doctor Burns, and write for your husband to come.”
“No, no--you must not let Mr. Sherwood know unless I should be dying,
and--there’s no such luck as that. The wretched are long-lived,”
bitterly. “But you may send for Doctor Burns, Aunt Alice, for I believe
you are right. I am going to be ill.”
She fell back among her pillows, shut her eyes, and seemed to sleep;
then, before the doctor came, she had lapsed into delirious babblings.
While he sat by the bed, watching her with the greatest uneasiness, she
had a lucid interval, in which she begged him not to let Royall know of
her illness.
“He is not strong, and the shock might kill him. You can take care of
me,” she said pleadingly.
But when she was quiet again, he whispered to her aunt and Annette:
“But, good heavens, this is brain fever! I fear that she will die!”