It looked very pleasant and cozy in the sick-room, with the curtains
drawn and the bright fire. Aline sat down in the easy-chair Mrs.
Griffin wheeled forward for her, and was quite unconscious what a
picture of fair, girlish beauty she made sitting there, in her pretty
dark blue dress with her dark hair falling over her slight, pretty
figure.
“Do you know,” she said, looking at the nurse, “that this reminds me of
the time when I was at Delaney House?--only that it was I who was ill
then, and not Mr. Delaney.”
“Can you recall those times without being angry with me, Aline?”
inquired Mr. Delaney, half fearfully.
“I told you I had forgiven you all, Mr. Delaney,” answered Aline, as if
that implied everything.
“Thank you,” he answered, dropping his head back, with a sigh, upon the
pillow.
Mrs. Griffin busied herself in preparing the little table by the
bedside, which she now wheeled forward with the simple repast neatly
arranged upon it.
“Do you know that I could not swallow a mouthful now?” he said, looking
at her with a slight smile. “I am so impatient to hear Aline’s story,
that I can think of nothing else.”
“But he must keep up his strength, mustn’t he, Miss Rodney?” said Mrs.
Griffin, anxiously.
“Most certainly! And I shall not begin the telling of my story until
after he has eaten every bite of his toast and swallowed every
mouthful of his tea,” answered that young person, with her usual cruel
directness.
He looked at her imploringly.
“Do you not know that I am far too much excited to eat?” he said.
“If that is the case, I am very sorry that I came,” exclaimed Miss
Rodney. “I was told, particularly, that you must not be excited. So I
will take myself off at once.”
“Do not go, Miss Rodney,” pleaded the nurse, while the invalid cried
out, anxiously:
“Stay, Aline, and I will at once proceed to devour every morsel on the
plate.”
“Very well. In that case I may permit myself to remain awhile longer,”
she replied.
She sat down again and watched him taking his tea. There was a very
sober, grave expression on her face while she did so.
She was shocked at the change that had taken place in Mr. Delaney since
that snowy night, barely five weeks agone, when she had asked him to
marry her and he had refused her request.
Then he had been tall, strong, handsome, full of life and health. Now
how pale, how wan, how shadowy, appeared the wasted face in which the
great burning black eyes appeared so large and solemn.
“Poor fellow! he will not be here long. How dreadful to think that my
papa should be the cause of his death,” said the girl to herself, with
a great wave of pity and regret sweeping over her heart.
He finished his toast and looked at her with a wan smile.
“Now, Aline, you will tell me where you went when you left me that
night,” he said, pleadingly.
A wave of crimson swept over her face. She recalled the mission upon
which she had gone to him that time.
“I know what you are thinking of,” he said. “But it was a noble
motive that prompted you that night. You would have saved me from the
consequences of your father’s wrath. Ah, Aline, I was horribly tempted
to take you at your word; but if I had done so I should but have done
you deeper wrong.”
“Yes, I know now, and I thank you for what seemed cruel then,” she
answered, simply, but the blush still burned her face. She could not
recall that hasty, impulsive action without the deepest shame.
He gazed at her with sorrowful eyes and an aching heart. Ah, how soon
the grave would hide him from the sight of those sweet, blue orbs!
While the blush still burned her fair face she said to him with a half
smile:
“Did you think I should be rendered so desperate by your refusal that
night, that I should go away and drown myself?”
“I thought you would go back home, and I was horrified when I found
that you had not done so,” he replied.
“No, I was too wretched to go back,” she said. “I was in a fever of
unrest and trouble when I came to you that night. My brain was on fire.
I had not stopped to think or to reason. I acted on impulse wholly. But
your sarcasm, your sternness, stunned me, cooled me. When I staggered
out of Delaney House I was almost dead with shame and despair for what
I had done.”
She put up her hand a moment to hide the sensitive quiver of her lips,
then resumed:
“My first thought was to get away from my home. I longed to break loose
from old associations and hide myself from all who knew me. I turned my
steps away from Delaney House, and staggered along in the snow until
my sense of physical discomfort cooled my reckless mood. I began to
think that I must stop somewhere or I should perish in the cold. Then I
remembered my sister Effie, who had gone South on a bridal tour.”
She looked from him to Mrs. Griffin, with a smile in her blue eyes.
“You were expecting to hear something tragic, but my story is the most
prosaic one imaginable. I was not meant for a heroine at all; I am
too afraid of discomfort and trouble,” she said, with a soft little
laugh. “When I started I was quite desperate; I did not care where I
went. But when the snow beat into my face and chilled my feet, I became
discouraged. I did not want to go back, but I longed intensely to be
with some one who loved me, and to be warm and comfortable.”
“Poor dear!” sighed Mrs. Griffin, sympathetically.
“I had some money in my pocket,” continued Aline. “Papa had given it
me to buy a black silk dress. I walked to the next station from here,
bought a ticket to Florida, and went to Effie and Dr. Anthony. You
see, Mr. Delaney, there was nothing remarkable at all in my second
disappearance from home,” she said.
“You should have written to your parents,” he said.
“I am ashamed to say that I would not do so,” she answered. “I thought
that if I let them all think that I was dead, my father would drop
the subject of the threatened duel. I did not want him to be killed,
neither did I want you to be hurt, for, angry as I was, I shrunk from
the thought of bloodshed. So I would not write myself, nor would I
suffer Effie to write.”
“You would have spared us all much unhappiness had you done so,” he
said.
“I came home to Maywood with them at last,” she said. “By that time
they had argued me into a more reasonable mood. I was willing to return
home; but that morning they came over to Chester I did not come with
them. I sent them before me as _avant couriers_, with the caution not
to tell them unless they were very anxious over me. They brought back
such news that I was stunned. Delaney House burned to the ground; the
deformed maniac dead; you wounded by my father’s hand and your whole
story revealed; my own name cleared from obloquy, and my friends all
ready to crave my pardon for their unkindness. It took my breath away.”
He smiled in spite of his pain as he saw the sudden joy-light flash
over her face. What mattered all that had happened to him so that she
was saved, this fair sweet girl who had suffered so unjustly.
“You must be very angry with papa, aren’t you, Mr. Delaney?” she asked,
wistfully.
“Angry? No! I have never blamed him. In his place I should have acted
the same, no doubt,” he replied, calmly.
“But I am very sorry, and so is papa. I came over this morning, and it
was one of the first things he told me. He would give anything in the
world to undo what he has done!” exclaimed Aline.
“Anything?” he repeated.
“Anything!” she reiterated, earnestly.
“And you, Aline?” he questioned.
“I feel worse than papa over it,” said the girl in her frank, innocent
way.