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"Thank you." He smiled directly the word was out. "I forgot! That's against regulations! But I swear it came straight from my heart."
"In that case you are forgiven!" she answered, with a low laugh.
It was such pure pleasure to have recaptured the old spontaneous Theo, with whom one could say or do anything, in the certainty of being understood, that even anxiety could not quell the new joy at her heart.
Re-entering the drawing-room, she beckoned Wyndham with her eyes and pa.s.sed on into the hall. So surprisingly swift are a woman's changes of mood, that by the time he joined her anxiety had taken hold of her again, to the exclusion of all else.
"What is it?" he asked quickly.
"Oh, Paul, you did well to reprove me! We must send the orderly for Dr Mackay at once. He has fever now--rather high, I am afraid. Did you notice nothing earlier?"
"No; he seemed quiet enough when I was with him."
"I think he has been worrying over something, apart from his eyes and the Boy; but I can't get at the bottom of it. No need to make the others anxious yet; only--I won't leave him again. I intend to stick to my charge after all," she added, with a sudden smile. "There was some sort of--misunderstanding, it seems. I don't quite know what, but there's an end of it now."
"Thank G.o.d!" The words were no mere formula on Paul Wyndham's lips.
"Misunderstandings are more poisonous than snakes! Go straight back to him, and I'll send the orderly flying in two minutes."
There was little sleep for either Wyndham or Honor that night.
The girl persuaded Evelyn to go early to bed, merely telling her that as Theo was restless she would have to sit up with him for a while; and Evelyn, secretly relieved at not being asked to do the sitting up herself, deposited a light kiss on her husband's hair and departed with a pretty air of meekness that brought a smile to Honor's lips.
She had felt mildly happy and oppressively good all day. The tea-party had helped to lighten the hushed atmosphere of the house; and her last waking thought was of George Rivers' deep-toned voice and frankly admiring eyes. She decided that he might "do" in place of Harry Denvil, who must naturally be forgotten as soon as possible; because it was so uncomfortable to think of people who were dead.
Desmond's temperature rose rapidly; and the two, who could not bear to leave his side, divided the night watches between them. Amar Singh, his chin between his knees, crouched dog-like on the mat outside the door, presenting himself, from time to time, with such dumb yearning in his eyes that Honor devised small services for him in pure tenderness of heart.
Paul took a couple of hours' rest at midnight, on the condition that Honor should do the same towards morning; and since she was obviously reluctant when the unwelcome hour arrived, he smilingly conducted her in person to the threshold of her room.
"Good-night to you,--Miss Meredith! Or should it be good-morning?" he said lightly, in the hope of chasing the strained look from her face.
"Good-morning, for preference," she retorted, with an attempt at a laugh. "You can take a horse to the water, but you can't make him drink! I shan't sleep even for five minutes."
"You think so; but Nature will probably have her way with you all the same."
He moved as if to go, but she came suddenly nearer; and the hidden fear leaped to her lips.
"Paul--is there any real danger because of this fever? One is so afraid of erysipelas with a wound of that kind; and it would be--fatal. Has Dr Mackay said anything definite? Tell me--please. I must know the truth."
In the urgency of the moment she laid a light hand upon him; and Wyndham, bracing the muscles of his arm, tried not to be aware of her finger-tips through his coat-sleeve.
"You evidently know too much for your own peace of mind," he said.
"But Mackay is as inscrutable as the Sphinx. One could see he was anxious, because he was ready to snap one's head off on the least provocation; but beyond that I know no more than you do. We can only do our poor utmost for him every hour, you and I, and leave the outcome--to G.o.d."
"Yes, yes,--you are right. Oh, Paul, what a rock you are at a bad time like this!"
Unconsciously her fingers tightened upon his arm, and a thrill like a current of electricity pa.s.sed through him. Lifting her hand from its resting-place, he put it aside, gently but decisively.
"I may be a rock," he remarked with his slow smile, "but I also happen to be--a man. Don't make our compact harder for me than you can help.
Good-night again; and sleep soundly--for Theo's sake!"
Before she could find words in which to plead forgiveness, he had almost reached the study door; and she stood motionless, watching him go, her face aflame with anger at her own unwitting thoughtlessness, and humiliation at the exquisite gentleness of his rebuke.
Surely there were few men on earth comparable to this man, whose heart and soul were hers for the taking. A cold fear came upon her lest in the end she should be driven to retract her decision; to forego all, and endure all, rather than withhold from him a happiness he so abundantly deserved.
"_Why_ is it such a heart-breaking tangle?" she murmured, locking her hands together till the points of her sapphire ring cut into the flesh. But she only pressed the harder. She understood now how it was that monks and fanatics strove to ease the soul through torments of the flesh. A pang of physical pain would have been a positive relief just then. But there was none for her to bear. She was young, vigorous, radiantly alive. She had not so much as a headache after her anxious vigil. The high G.o.ds had willed that she should feel and suffer to the full. There is no other pathway to the ultimate heights.
The soft closing of the study door sounded loud in the stillness; and she went reluctantly into her own room.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.
"We then that are strong ..."
--ST PAUL.
To say that Owen Kresney was annoyed would be to do him an injustice.
He was furious at the unlooked-for interruption, which bade fair to cancel all that he had been at such pains to achieve. Pure spite so mastered him, that even the news of Desmond's critical condition--which stirred the whole station the morning after the funeral--awakened no spark of pity in that region of concentrated egotism which must needs be called his heart.
The "counter-check quarrelsome" would have been welcome enough. But this impersonal method of knocking the ground from under his feet goaded him to exasperation. He had not even the satisfaction of knowing that he had wrought jealousy or friction between husband and wife. Desmond had practically ignored his existence. There lay the sting that roused all the devil in Kresney; and the devil is a light sleeper in some men's souls. But the Oriental strain in the man made him an adept at a waiting game; and finding himself cavalierly thrust aside, he could do no otherwise than remain in the background for the present, alert, vigilant, cursing his luck.
In the blue bungalow a strained calmness prevailed. The work that must be done could only be carried through by living from hour to hour, as Paul had said; and Evelyn could now no longer be s.h.i.+elded from the pain of knowledge.
On the morning after her first night of vigil, Honor came to her; and, keeping firm hold of both her hands, told her, simply and straightly, that the coming week would make the utmost demands upon her strength and courage.
Evelyn listened with wide eyes and blanching cheeks.
"Did--did _I_ make him bad?" she asked in an awe-struck whisper, for she had not been able to keep her own counsel in regard to her fatal interview with Theo.
"I think not--I hope not," Honor answered gravely. "But you did wound him cruelly; and whatever happens, you _must_ not fail him now."
Evelyn looked up with a distressed puckering of her forehead.
"I don't want to--fail him, Honor. But you know I'm not a bit of use with sick people; and I can't all of a sudden turn brave and strong, like you."
Honor's smile expressed an infinite deal, but she did not answer at once. She wanted to be very sure of saying the right word; and it is only when we try to grapple with another's intimate need that we find ourselves baffled by the elusive, intangible spirits of those with whom we share sunlight and food and the bewildering gift of speech.
Honor was wondering now whether, by a supreme concentration of will, she could possibly infuse some measure of the soldier spirit into Theo Desmond's wife; and the extravagant idea impelled her to a sudden decision.
She drew Evelyn nearer.
"Listen to me, darling," she said. "We have _got_ to pull Theo through this between us, you and I; and you always say I can help you to do difficult things. Very well. I am quite determined that you _shall_ be a brave wife to him, for the next two weeks at least. And when I make up my mind about a thing, it is as good as done, isn't it?"