Thereby Hangs a Tale Part 74

"My dear child, you must not talk like this," exclaimed Richard, with an involuntary shiver. "You must get well and strong again."

She shook her head sadly, and then lay gazing up into his eyes.

"Netta," he said, gently, "you have thought a great deal about me since you have been ill."

"Yes--oh yes," she said.

"Looking back, then, do you blame me--do you think I was cruel, and led you on to think I loved you?"

"No," she said, and her hand closed almost convulsively on his. "I don't think so now. I have thought it all over, and it was my folly and weakness. I seem to have grown old since then, and to have become so much wiser. That's all past now; but I want you to tell me, first, that you did not think me forward then, and strange."

"My child," said Richard, "I have felt that the blame has been on my side, and it has caused me many a pang."

"But it is all past now," said Netta, eagerly. "I know--I can see plainly enough. You knew better how ill I was than I did, and pitied and were very sorry for me; and it seemed so sweet to me that--that I could not help watching for you--feeling glad when you came. But that's all past now, and you said we could be friends."

"Indeed, yes," he said, gazing into the great, brilliant eyes; but in a sad, dreamy way, for he could read but too plainly the coming end.

"And you forgive me--quite forgive me?" she murmured.

"My poor child, I have nothing to forgive," he said, leaning over and kissing her forehead.

"Thank you," she murmured, closing her eyes; and she lay silent for a few moments. Then, brightening, she said, "Now tell me again about her."

He remained silent, and she repeated her request--almost impatiently.

"Tell me her name."

He looked at her wonderingly for a few moments, before he answered, softly--

"Valentina."

"Valentina," said Netta, smiling. "Yes, a pretty name--Valentina. I shall love it as I love her."

"You love her?"

"Yes, though I have never seen her. Did you not tell me that she loved you? You think me strange," she continued, smiling in his face, "but I am not. Why, if you could have loved me, I could not have stayed, and you would have been unhappy. It is for the best, and I shall know that you are content."

"Netta," said Richard, hoa.r.s.ely, "you must not talk like this."

"Why not?" she said, wonderingly. "All the trouble seems past to me.

Now I know you feel for me--I believe you like me. Everybody seems kind to me now, and that foolish little dream has quite pa.s.sed away. Come, tell me about her. I should like to know her. Would she come to see me--if she knew that I was dying?"

"Yes, I feel sure she would, if she knew all," said Richard, sadly.

"She is everything that is gentle and good, and would have loved you dearly, Netta. You may meet yet."

"I should like to see her," said the girl, enthusiastically, "that I might tell her how n.o.ble and good you are. There, you see how I make an idol of my brother Richard."

He started, and looked hard at her.

"Yes," she said, "brother Richard--you were behaving like a dear brother to me, only I could not understand. I never had a brother, but you will be one to me still. You will not stay away, Richard, even if I love you, for it is a chastened love now--one that I need not feel ashamed to own. You'll not stay away, but come and sit with me, and read to me, as you did before?"

He shook his head sadly.

"Yes--yes, you will come," she cried, putting her hands together. "I shall have something to live for then--a little longer--and we can sit and talk of her--of Valentina. If you stay away--I--I--shall--die."

It was no fiction of the lips, and Richard knew it, as her voice grew weaker, and she seemed to droop. The mark was upon her face, telling that she was one of those soon to fall. Her pitiful appeal went to his heart; and raising her in his arms, he pillowed her head upon his shoulder, and kissed her quivering, pallid lips, as in a voice broken with emotion he muttered in the familiar old scriptural words--

"G.o.d do so to me, and more also, my poor stricken lamb, if I do not try and smooth your poor, th.o.r.n.y path."

Once, and once only, did her poor, thin lips respond to his caress.

Then, her transparent, white hand was pa.s.sed lightly over his forehead; her eyes closed, and with a faint sigh of content, she lay quite still, her fluttering breath telling, at the end of a few minutes, that she had, thoroughly exhausted, fallen asleep.

Volume 3, Chapter XIII.

WAITING FOR NEWS.

The weeks went on, and glided into months. Frank Pratt had been as punctual as the clock in his visits to Russell Square, but his love matters made no progress. Unless he had something to communicate affecting Tiny, Fin would hardly stay a minute. Then, too, at times, there were checks caused by the presence of Aunt Matty, when Pratt would return to his chambers disconsolate, and yet happy at having had a glimpse of the darling of his heart.

Once, when he had entered strongly into his affairs, and spoke of trying to renew his acquaintance in a straightforward way with the family--

"Because I should not be ashamed to meet Sir Hampton now," he said.

Fin responded coolly--

"I'm afraid I hate you very much, Mr Pratt."

"Hate me! Why?" he exclaimed.

"Because you're so unfeeling."

"Unfeeling?"

"You think so much of yourself, and your silly love nonsense, when poor Tiny is persecuted and tortured by that hateful Vanleigh, who only wants her money. I believe he'd ill-treat her before they'd been married a month. He looks like a wife-beater."

"But they never persecute you," said Pratt.

"Don't they? Why, only this morning pa told me that he should expect me to receive Sir Felix Landells; while ma cried, and Aunt Matty nodded her head approvingly."

"And--and what did you say?" cried Pratt.

"I gave Pepine a vicious kick, and walked out of the room. And now, sir, if you please, how about all your fine promises? What have you done all these months? Have you got that wicked wretch Trevor back his property? Come, speak!"

"No," said Pratt, "I went down on Tuesday to see how things were, and Master Humphrey seems settling down comfortably enough. Quite the country squire."

"Serve Richard Trevor right," said Fin. "And now, about that girl?

Does he go to see her still?"

Pratt was silent.