"Don't say it! Don't suggest for a moment that it is possible! Oh,
Jim, you don't believe it! You don't really think I could be like this
all my life? I will be very good, and do all they say, and keep quiet
and not excite myself. I will do anything--anything--but I must get
better in the end! I could not bear a life like this!"
"The doctors all tell us you will recover in time, darling, but it's a
terribly hard waiting. I wish I could bear the pain for you; but you
will let me do what I can, won't you, Vere? I am a dull stick. No one
knows it better than I do myself, but make use of me just now; let me
fetch and carry for you; let me run down every few weeks to see you, and
give you the news. It will bind you to nothing in the future. Whatever
happens, I should be grateful to you all my life for giving me so much
happiness."
"Dear old Jim! You are too good for me. How could I possibly say `No'
to such a request?" sighed Vere softly. I think she was very nearly
crying just then, but I made another desperate effort to interest myself
in Maud, and soon afterwards he went away.
Vere looked at me curiously when I returned to the seat by her side, and
I told her the truth.
"I tried to read, I did, honestly, but I heard a good deal! It was your
own fault. You wouldn't let me go away."
"Then you know something you may not have known before--how a good man
can love! I have treated Jim Carstairs like a dog, and this is how he
behaves in return. I don't deserve such devotion."
"Nobody does. But I envy you, Vere. I envy you even now, with all your
pain. It must be the best thing in the world to be loved like that."
"Sentimental child!" she said, smiling; but it was a real smile, not a
sneer; and when mother came up a few minutes later, Vere looked at her
anxiously, noticing for the very first time how ill and worn she looked.
"You looked fagged, mother dear. Do sit still and rest," she said, in
her old, caressing manner. Mother flushed, and looked ten years younger
on the spot.