Part 38 (1/2)

Zephyr, waiting no further exchange of words, left the room and shortly returned with Madame. She paused at the door, darted a frightened look at Firmstone, then one of pathetic appeal to the imperturbable Zephyr.

Again her eyes timidly sought Firmstone, who, rising, advanced with outstretched hand. Madame's hands were filled with bundled papers. In nervously trying to move them, in order to accept Firmstone's proffered hand, the bundles fell scattered to the floor. With an embarra.s.sed exclamation, she hastily stooped to recover them and in her effort collided with Zephyr, who had been actuated by the same motive.

Zephyr rubbed his head with one hand, gathering up the papers with the other.

”If Madame wore her heart on her neck instead of under her ribs, I would have had two hands free instead of one. Which same being put in literal speech means that there's nothing against nature in having a hard head keeping step with a tender heart.”

Madame was at last seated with her papers in her lap. She was ill at ease in the fierce consciousness of self, but her flushed face and frightened eyes only showed the growing mastery of unselfish love over the threatening lions that waited in her path. One by one, she tendered the papers to Firmstone, who read them with absorbed attention. As the last paper was laid with its fellows Madame's eyes met fearlessly the calm look of the superintendent. Slowly, laboriously at first, but gathering a.s.surance with oblivion of self, she told the story of elise's birth. With the intuition of an overpowering love, she felt that she was telling the story to one absolutely trustworthy, able and willing to counsel her with powers far beyond her own. Firmstone heard far more than the stumbling words recited. His eyes dimmed, but his voice was steady.

”I think I understand. You want elise restored to her friends?”

Madame's eyes slowly filled with tears that welled over the trembling lids and rolled down her cheeks. She did not try to speak. She only nodded in silent acquiescence. She sat silent for a few moments, then the trembling lips grew firm, but her voice could not be controlled.

”We ought to have done it long ago, Pierre and I. But I loved her.

Pierre loved her. She was all we had.” It was worse than death. Death only removes the presence, it leaves the consoling sense of possession through all eternity.

Zephyr started to speak, but Firmstone, turning to Madame, interrupted.

”You have no need to fear. Where you cannot go elise will not.”

Madame looked up suddenly. The rainbow of hope glowed softly for an instant in the tear-dimmed eyes. Then the light died out. ”She will be ashamed of her hol' daddy and her hol' mammy before her gran' friends.”

Pierre's words came to her, laden with her own unworthiness.

The door opened and elise and Miss Firmstone came in. Miss Firmstone took in the situation at a glance.

”You are reliable people to trust with a convalescent, aren't you? And after the doctor's warning that all excitement was to be avoided!”

”Doctors don't know everything,” Zephyr exploded, in violence to his custom. Then, more in accord with it, ”It does potatoes no end of good to be hilled.”

elise looked questioning surprise, as her glance fell on Madame, then on Zephyr. Her eyes rested lightly for a moment on Firmstone. There was a fleeting suggestion that quickened his pulses and deepened the flush on his face. Again her eyes were on Madame. Pity, love, glowed softly at sight of the bowed head. She advanced a step, and her hand and arm rested on Madame's shoulders. Madame s.h.i.+vered slightly, then grew rigid.

Nothing should interfere with her duty to elise.

elise straightened, but her arm was not removed.

”What is it? What have you been saying?” She was looking fixedly at Firmstone. There was no tenderness in her eyes, only a demand that was not to be ignored.

Firmstone began a brief capitulation of his interview with Madame. When he told her that she was not Madame's daughter, that she was to be restored to her unknown friends, that Madame wished it, the change that came over the girl amazed him. Her eyes were flas.h.i.+ng. Her clinched hands thrust backward, as if to balance the forward, defiant poise of her body.

”That is not so! You have frightened her into saying what she does not mean. You don't want me to leave you; do you? Tell me you don't!” She turned to Madame, fiercely.

Firmstone gave Madame no time to answer.

”Wait,” he commanded. ”You don't understand.” His words were impetuous with the intensity of his emotion. ”I don't want you to leave Madame.

You are not going to. Don't you understand?” He laid his hand on hers, but she shook it off.

He withdrew his hand.

”Very well, but listen.” Himself he put aside; but he was not to be diverted from his purpose. He felt that in the life of the girl before him a vital crisis was impending, that, unforeseeing of consequences, she, in the sheer delight of overcoming opposing wills, might be impelled to a step that would bring to naught all her glorious possibilities. The thought hardened his every mental fibre. He was looking into eyes that gleamed with open, resolute defiance.