And yet,
when very carefully, almost casually, he said that Mr. Wright had had
a slight shock--"his life is not in danger just now," said William,
"but he can't speak;"--she lifted her head and looked at him, drawing
a full breath, as if eased of some burdening thought.
"Will he ever speak?" she said.
"I don't know; I think so. But probably it is the beginning of the
end; poor old man!"
"Poor old man," she repeated mechanically; "poor old man!"
"I haven't told Dr. Lavendar about--last night," William said; "but if
you have no objection I would like to just hint at--at a reason. He
would know how entirely blameless you were."
"Oh, no! please, please, don't!" she said. And William King winced at
his own clumsiness; her reticence made him feel as if he had been
guilty of an impropriety, almost of an indelicacy.
After a pause he said gently, that he hoped she would sit with Mrs.
King and himself at the funeral on Wednesday.
Helena caught her hands together convulsively; "_I_ go? Oh, no, no! I
am not going."
The doctor was greatly distressed. "I know it is hard for you, but I'm
afraid Samuel and his wife will be so hurt if you don't come. They
know the boy was fond of you--you were always so good to him. I don't
like to urge you, because I know it pains you but--"
"Oh, I can't--I can't!"
She turned so white that William had not the heart to say anything
more.
Pages:
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265