"Better than well. I want for nothing."
"Is your fire kept up all night?"
"Esther, I have not come to requiring a night nurse yet. My fire goes out in the early hours before the dawn."
"The coldest part of the twenty-four hours. Brother Jerome, you must give up visiting in East London at present."
"No, not while I can crawl. You forget that on a certain night I surrendered my body as well as my spirit to the service of comfort.
While I can comfort others I will. There is nothing else left to me."
"Then, sir, you will die--you will deliberately kill yourself."
"No, I tried that once. I won"t again. Esther, what is the matter? You are a good girl. It is a mistake for you to waste your pity on me."
"You must forgive me, sir. Pity comes to one unbidden. Pity--and--and sympathy. If you get worse, I shall leave my situation and come home and nurse you."
"Then you will indeed kill me. You will take away my last hope. My one goblet of new wine will be denied me. Then I shall truly die. Esther, what is your budget of news? How is my wife? Begin--go on--tell me everything."
"Mrs. Wyndham is well, sir."
"Well? Do you mean by that that she is happy? Does she laugh much? Does she sing?"
"Sometimes she laughs. Once I heard her sing."
"Only once, Esther? She had a very sweet voice. I used sometimes to tell her that it was never silent."
"Once, sir, I heard her sing."
"Oh, once? Was it a cheerful song?"
"It was on a Sunday evening. She was singing to your little boy. I think she sang the "Happy Land." I don"t quite remember. I came to fetch the boy to bed, and she was singing to him. She took her hands off the piano suddenly when I came in, and there were tears in her eyes."
"Tears? She was always sensitive to music. And yet you say she does not look sad."
"I should not call her sad, Brother Jerome. Her face is calm and quiet.
I think she is a very good young lady."
"You need not tell me that, Esther; you managed very well about the boy."
"Thank you, sir. I think I did. What did you feel when you saw him, sir?"
"Rapture. All my blood flowed swiftly. I lived and breathed. I had an exquisite five minutes."
"The boy is not like his mother, sir."
"No, nor like me. He resembles my sister Lilias. Esther, I must see him again."
"You shall, by-and-bye, but not too soon. We must not run any risks."
"Certainly not. I will have much patience. Hold out the hope only, and I will cling to it indefinitely."
"You shall see the child again, Brother Jerome."
"G.o.d abundantly bless you. Now go on. Tell me more. How does my wife spend her time? Has she many visitors?"
"Sometimes her father."
"Only sometimes? They used to be inseparable."
"Not now, sir. There is something wrong between them. When they meet they are constrained with one another, and they don"t meet very often.
I have orders, though, to take the child every morning to see Mr.
Paget."
"Have you? I am sorry for that. He kisses my son, does he?"
"Yes, sir. He seems wrapped up in him; he----"
"Don"t talk of him. That subject turns my blood into vinegar. Go on.
Tell me more. What other visitor has my wife?"
"Sometimes your sister, Miss Lilias Wyndham."
"My sister? Esther, you don"t know what that name recalls. All the old innocent days; the little hymns before we went to bed, and the little prayers at our mother"s knee. I don"t think I can bear to hear much about Lilias; but I am glad she loves my wife."
"She does, sir. She is devoted to Mrs. Wyndham. I don"t think any other visitors come except Mr. Carr."
"Adrian Carr, a clergyman?"
Wyndham"s tone had suddenly become alert and wakeful.
"I believe the gentleman"s name is the Rev. Adrian Carr, Brother Jerome."
"Why do you speak in that guarded voice, Esther? Have you anything to conceal?"
"No, sir, no. Don"t excite yourself. I conceal nothing; he comes, that is all."
"But surely, not often? He is my father"s curate; he cannot often come to London."
"He is not Mr. Wyndham"s curate now, sir; he has a church of his own, St. Jude"s they call it, at the corner of Butler-street."
"And he comes constantly to my house? To--to see my wife?"
"Your--your widow, sir."
"G.o.d help me, Esther! G.o.d help me! How am I to endure this! My poor--my beloved--my sweet--and are you exposed to this? Esther, Esther, this care turns me into a madman."
"You must stay quiet, Brother Jerome. Mr. Carr comes, and your--your widow sees him."