When the sun burst upon The Towers in the freshness of the morning,
Kimberly's eyes wore another expression. The pleading of her words
still rang in his ears. The tears in her voice had cost him his
courage. Before another night fell they told him but a slender hope
remained. He seemed already to have realized it.
After the doctors had spoken and all knew, Annie crept into Kimberly's
room. His head was bowed on the table between his arms. With her
little wet handkerchief and her worn beads crushed in her hands, she
ventured to his side. Her sobs aroused him. "What is it, Annie?"
"Oh, Mr. Kimberly; she is so sick!"
"Yes, Annie."
"Don't you think you should call a priest for her?"
"A priest?" He opened his eyes as if to collect his thoughts.
"Oh, yes, a priest, Mr. Kimberly."
"Go yourself for him, Annie."
Tears were streaming down the maid's cheeks. She held out an ivory
crucifix. "If her eyes should open, dear Mr. Kimberly, won't you give
this to her? It is her own." Kimberly took the crucifix in silence and
as Annie hurried away he buried his head again in his arms.
The timid young clergyman from the village responded within half an
hour. Hamilton spoke kindly to him and explained to him Alice's
condition; for unless consciousness should return Hamilton knew that
nothing could be done.
After trying in vain to speak to her the priest asked leave to wait in
an adjoining room. His youthfulness and timidity proved no detriment to
his constancy, for he sat hour after hour relieved only by Annie's
messages and declining to give up. In the early morning finding there
had been no change he left, asking that he be sent for if consciousness
should return.
With a strength that the doctors marvelled at, Alice rallied after the
bad night. She so held her improvement during the day that Hamilton at
nightfall felt she still might live.
While the doctors and the family were at dinner Kimberly was kneeling
upstairs beside Alice. She lay with her eyes closed, as she had lain the
night she was stricken, but breathing more quietly. The racking pain no
longer drew her face. Kimberly softly spoke her name and bent over her.
He kissed her parched lips tenderly and her tired eyes opened. A
convulsion shook him. It seemed as if she must know him, but his
pleading brought no response.
Then as he looked, the light in her eyes began to fade. With a sudden
fear he took her in his arms and called to Annie on the other side of
the bed. The nurse ran for Hamilton. Annie with a sob that seemed to
pierce Alice's stupor held up the ivory crucifix and the eyes of her
dying mistress fixed upon it.
Reason for an instant seemed to assert itself. Alice, her eyes bent upon
the crucifix, and trying to rise, stretched out her hands. Kimberly,
transfixed, supported her in his arms. Annie held the pleading symbol
nearer and Alice with a heart-rending little cry clutched it
convulsively and sank slowly back.