"Thank G.o.d! He will tell his father so; we none of us knew of his danger till it was past, and so we were saved Richard"s terrible suspense; he has been telling me about it. I never saw him more cut up about anything--it was a sharper attack than we believed."
"Could he speak to you, Aunt Milly?"
"Only a word or two, and those hardly audible; the breathing is still so oppressed that we dare not let him try--but he made me a sign to kiss him, and once he took hold of my hand; he likes to see us there."
"He did not mind Dr. Heriot, then?" and Polly turned to the fire to hide her sudden flush, but Mildred did not notice it.
"He seemed a little agitated, I thought, but Dr. Heriot soon succeeded in calming him; he managed beautifully. I am sure Roy likes having him, though once or twice he looked pained--at least, I fancied so; but you have no idea what Dr. Heriot is in a sickroom," and Mildred paused in some emotion.
She felt it was impossible to describe to Polly the skilful tenderness with which he had tended Roy; the pleasant cordiality which had evaded awkwardness, the exquisite sympathy that dealt only with present suffering; no, it could only be stored sacredly in her memory, as a thing never to be forgotten.
The girl drooped her head as Mildred spoke.
"I am finding out more every day what he is, but one will never come to the bottom of his goodness," she said, humbly. "Aunt Milly, I feel more and more how unworthy I am of him," and she rested her head against Mildred and wept.
There was a weary ring in Mildred"s voice as she answered her.
"He would not like to hear you speak so despairingly of his choice; you must make yourself worthy of him, dear Polly."
"I will try--I do try, till I get heart-sick over my failures. I know when he is disappointed, or thinks me silly; he gives me one of his quiet looks that seem to read one through and through, and then all my courage goes. I do so long to tell him sometimes that he must be satisfied with me just as I am, that I shall never get wiser or better, that I shall always be Polly, and nothing more."
"Only his precious little Heartsease!"
"No," she returned, sighing, "I fear that has gone too. I feel so sore and unhappy about all this. Does he--does Roy know I am here?"
"No, no, not yet; he is hardly strong enough to bear any excitement. It will be very dull for you, my child, for you will not even have my company."
"Oh, I shall not mind it--not much, I mean," returned Polly, stoutly.
But, nevertheless, her heart sank at the prospect before her; she would not see him perhaps for weeks, she would only see Mildred by s.n.a.t.c.hes, she would be debarred from Dr. Heriot"s society; it was a dreary thought for the affectionate girl, but her resolution did not falter, things would look brighter by the morning light as Mildred told her, and she fell asleep, planning occupation for her solitary days.
Dr. Heriot"s watch had been a satisfactory one, and he was able to report favourably of the invalid. Roy still suffered greatly from the accelerated and oppressed breathing and distressing cough, but the restlessness and fever had abated, and towards morning he had enjoyed some refreshing sleep, and he was able to leave him more comfortably to Mildred and Richard.
He took Polly for a long walk after breakfast, which greatly brightened the girl"s spirits, after which Richard and he had a long talk while pacing the lawn under the mulberry trees; both of them looked somewhat pale and excited when they came in, and Richard especially seemed deeply moved.
Polly moped somewhat after Dr. Heriot"s departure, but Richard was very kind to her, and gave her all his leisure time; but he was obliged to return to Oxford before many days were over.
Polly had need of all her courage then, but she bore her solitude bravely, and resorted to many ingenious experiments to fill up the hours that hung so heavily on her hands. She wrote daily letters to Olive and Dr. Heriot, kept the studio in dainty order, gathered little inviting bouquets for the sickroom, and helped Mrs. Madison to concoct invalid messes.
By and by, as she grew more skilful, all Roy"s food was dressed by her hands. Polly would arrange the tray with fastidious taste, and carry it up herself to the alcove in defiance of all Mildred"s warnings.
"I will step so lightly that he cannot possibly recognise my footsteps, and I always wear velvet slippers now," she said, pleadingly; and Mildred, not liking to damp the girl"s innocent pleasure, withdrew the remonstrance in spite of her better judgment.
Dr. Heriot had strictly prohibited Polly"s visits to the sickroom for the present, as he feared the consequences of any great excitement in Roy"s weakened condition. Polly would stand listening to the low weak tones, speaking a word or two at intervals, and Mildred"s cheerful voice answering him; now and then the terrible cough seemed to shatter him, and there would be long deathlike silences; when Polly could bear it no longer, she would put on her hat, coaxing Sue to follow her, and take long walks down the Finchley Road or over Hampstead Heath.
There was a little stile near The Hollies where she loved to linger; below her lay the fields and the long, dusty road; all manner of lights gleamed through the twilight, the dark lane lay behind her; pa.s.sers-by marvelled at the girl standing there in her soft furs with the dog lying at her feet; the air was full of warm dampness, a misty moon hung over the leafless trees.
"I wonder what Heriot is doing," she would say to herself; "his letters are beautiful--just what I expected; they refresh me to read them; how can he care for mine in return, as he says he does! Roy liked them, but then----"
Here Polly broke off with a shiver, and Sue growled at a dark figure coming up the field-path.
"Come, Sue, your master will want his tea," cried the girl, waking up from her vague musings, "and no one but Polly shall get it for him. Aunt Milly says he always praises Mrs. Madison"s cookery;" and she quickened her steps with a little laugh.
Polly was only just in time; before her preparations were completed the bell rang in the sickroom.
"There, it is ready; I will carry it up. Never mind me, Mrs. Madison, it is not very heavy," cried the girl, bustling and heated, and she took up the tray with her strong young arms, but, in her hurry, the velvet slippers had been forgotten.
Mildred started with dismay at the sound of the little tapping heels.
Would Roy recognise it? Yes, a flush had pa.s.sed over his wan face; he tried to raise himself feebly, but the incautious movement brought on a fit of coughing.
Mildred pa.s.sed a supporting arm under the pillows, and waited patiently till the paroxysm had pa.s.sed.
"Dear Rex, you should not have tried to raise yourself--there, lean back, and be quiet a moment till you have recovered," and she wiped the cold drops of exhaustion from his forehead.
But he still fought with the struggling breath.
"Was it she--was it Polly?" he gasped.
"Yes," returned Mildred, alarmed at his excessive agitation and unable to withhold the truth; "but you must not talk just now."
"Just one word; when did she come?" he whispered, faintly.
"With me; she has been here all this time. It is her cookery, not Mrs.
Madison"s, that you have been praising so highly. No, you must not see her yet," answering his wistful glance; "you are so weak that Dr.
Blenkinsop has forbidden it at present; but you will soon be better, dear," and it was a proof of his weakness that Roy did not contest the point.
But the result of Polly"s imprudence was less harmful than she had feared. Roy grew less restless. From that evening he would lie listening for hours to the light footsteps about the house, his eyes would brighten as they paused at his door.
The flowers that Polly now ventured to lay on his tray were always placed within his reach; he would lie and look at them contentedly. Once a sc.r.a.p of white paper attracted his eyes. How eagerly his thin fingers clutched it There were only a few words traced on it--"Good-night, my dear brother Roy; I am so glad you are better;" but when Mildred was not looking the paper was pressed to his lips and hidden under his pillow.
"You need not move about so quietly, I think he likes to hear you,"
Mildred said to the girl when she had a.s.sured herself that no hurtful effect had been the result of Polly"s carelessness, and Polly had thanked her with glistening eyes.
How light her heart grew; she burst into little quavers and trills of song as she flitted about Mrs. Madison"s bright kitchen. Roy heard her singing one of his favourite airs, and made Mildred open the door.
"She has the sweetest voice I ever heard," he said with a sigh when she had finished. "Ask her to do that oftener; it is like David"s harp to Saul," cried the lad, with tears in his eyes; "it refreshes me."
Once they could hear her fondling the dog in the entry below.
"Dear old Sue, you are such a darling old dog, and I love you so, though you are too stupid to be taught any tricks," she said, playfully.
When Sue next found admittance into her master"s room Roy called the animal to him with feeble voice. "Let her be, I like to have her here,"
he said, when Mildred would have lifted her from the snow-white counterpane. "Sue loves her master, and her master loves Sue," and as the creature thrust its slender nose delightedly into his hand Roy dropped a furtive kiss on the smooth black head.
CHAPTER x.x.x