"But, Alice, I tell you that she is not in condition--"
"I want to see her. Ask her. Did I not help you to get her? Ask her."
That last assertion alone moved William; he remembered how skeptical he
had been when she had advised him to return to Clarissa; she was right
then, and he had no reason to question her until he had found her advice
to be incorrect, at least once.
The first thought to arise in his mind was "Why did Clarissa come here?"
She had sent word to him and Augustus she was ill and could not join
them in their morning meal, but she was evidently not too ill to visit
comparative strangers, so he had no desire to force his presence upon
her, but Alice said she wanted to see her. He remained silent for a
while, then said, "If you want to see her, go to her."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when Alice arose with closed
eyes and walked out of the room. William hardly knew what to do; he
wanted to follow her to see what transpired, but his sensitive pride
said "She will think you forced the girl to come," and that thought
determined his action. He did not move. He waited and waited, still she
did not come. What was she doing? Why did they not come to him, knowing
he was waiting? Still he waited, too proud to go to them; then he
thought that Alice ought not to be controlled so long. As this thought
entered his mind, she came into the room, alone.
She looked wan and tired, and walked past him to the place of her
entrancement, and, drawing a long sigh as she laid her head back, said
"I am going to her tomorrow. She will not come here," then her head
drooped wearily. He did not feel he ought to force her further, although
he was filled with a jealous longing to know what had transpired.
She said nothing more, although he allowed her to remain in a trance
condition for some time. How keen his disappointment at the result of
the interview he had looked forward to was, no one save himself would
ever know. He hoped Clarissa was as pleased as he was disappointed. He
would have liked to know what had passed between them. As he was
thinking thus, he felt arms around his neck, drawing him closely and
affectionately, and looking up, surprised and astonished, he
saw--Clarissa.
She bent over him quickly, and drawing him closer still, and said, "Wake
her, William, she must be tired." He would have gone cheerfully, even to
his execution, while she held him thus, looking into his eyes with that
expression of love. His arms went around her, and he said, almost
unconsciously, "Wake, Alice. Alice, are you awake?"
He did not notice her answer, and Alice, feeling confused at seeing them
in their fond embrace, at once left the room, without being noticed by
either. They were engrossed with their own feelings. Clarissa spoke
first.
"William,--she helped me so much. Will you not try to help me be what
she says I can be? Do not move, dear. I have not finished yet. I
promised her I would tell you how much I loved you, but I cannot keep
that promise, for words do not express the full sentiment of the heart.
I love you more than words can tell. You know that, even if I am
irritable and distant."
"Clarissa, you and I have much to thank Alice for;--how little I
realized when I was developing her as a subject, what a flood of
happiness she would bring into my life! What did she mean when she said
that she was going to see you tomorrow?"
"That is our secret. She is coming to our home. You will entrance her
for me and then leave us alone, will you not?"
"With pleasure."
"There is Augustus. Mrs. Millard has invited us to remain and spend the
evening. Would you like to?"
"Yes--if you would."
"Then let's go and see what the boys have to say. Before long, William,
I will tell you the secret."
It was a happy gathering in Mrs. Millard's house that evening. Each
thought the others appeared to the best advantage, and they separated
only when Augustus became so tired that, despite his most heroic
efforts, his eyes would close. It had been a happy day for him.