Part 55 (1/2)
He wished that Bronson would come back--good old Bronson, to pull up the rug. He wished that Derry might come.
A door below opened and shut. Some one was ascending the stairs. Some one who walked with a light step--some one slim and youthful, in a white gown--!
”Edith--?”
But Edith's hair had not been crinkled and copper-colored, and Edith would have come straight up to him; she would not have hesitated on the top step as if afraid to advance.
”Who are you?”
”Jean--”
”Jean?”
”Derry's wife.”
”Come here.” He tried to reach out his hand to her, but could not.
His tongue felt thick--.
She knelt beside his chair. Her head was bare. She wore no wrap. ”We were married this morning. And my own father has gone--to France--and I wanted a father--”
”Did Derry tell you to come?”
”Bronson begged me. He was at the wedding--”
”Old Bronson?” He tried to smile, but the smile was twisted.
She was looking up at him fearfully, but her voice did not falter. ”I came to tell you that Derry loves you. He doesn't want your money, oh, you know that he doesn't want it. But he is going away to the--war, and he may be killed, so many men are--killed. And he--loves you--”
”Where is he?”
”I wouldn't let him come. You see, you said things which were hard for him to forgive. I was afraid you might say such things again.”
He knew that he would never say them. ”Tell him that--I love him.” He tried to sit up. ”Tell him that he is--my son.”
He fell back. He heard her quick cry, ”Bronson--”
Bronson came running up the stairs, and the nurse who had watched the scene dazedly from the threshold of the General's room ran, too.
Weighted down by a sense of increasing numbness he lifted his agonized eyes to Jean. ”Stay with me--stay--”
Hilda, waked by the day nurse, raged. ”You should have called me at once when he left his room. Why didn't you call me?”
”Because I felt myself competent to manage the case.”
”You see how you have managed it--I will be down in a minute. Get everybody out--”
Her composed manner when she came down showed nothing of that which was seething within her.
She found Jean in bridal-white sitting by the bed and holding the General's hand. The doctor had been sent for, Derry had been sent for--things were being swept out of her hands. She blamed it, still hiding her anger under a quiet manner, on Jean.
”He has had a stroke. It was probably the excitement of your coming.”