Part 60 (1/2)
The most serious features in the case were his loss of blood and consequent great exhaustion. The division surgeon said that the chief danger lay in renewed hemorrhage, and should it occur he must be sent for at once, and then he left the patient to Mildred's care, with directions as to stimulants and nourishment.
Mildred would not let Roger speak, and he lay in a dreamy, half-waking condition of entire content. As she sat beside him holding his hand, she was no longer in doubt. ”My 'stupid old heart,' as Belle called it, is awake at last,” she thought. ”Oh, how awful would be my desolation if he should die! Now I know what he is to me.
I loved Vinton as a girl; I love Roger as a woman. Oh, how gladly I'd take his place! What could I not sacrifice for him! Now I know what he has suffered in his loneliness. I understand him at last.
I was hoping he would get over it--as if I could ever get over this!
He said he was losing his zest in life. Oh, what an intolerable burden would his loss make of life for me! O G.o.d, spare him; surely such love as this cannot be given to two human souls to be poured out like water on the rock of a pitiless fate.”
”Millie,” said Roger faintly, ”your hand seems alive, and its pulsations send little thrills direct to my heart. Were it not for your hand I would think my body already dead.”
”Oh, Roger,” she murmured, pressing her lips on his hand, ”would to G.o.d I could put my blood into your veins. Roger, dear beyond all words, don't fail me, now that I need you as never before. Don't speak, don't move. Just rest and gain. Hush, hush. Oh, be quiet! I won't leave you until you are stronger, and I'll always be within call.”
”I'll mind, Millie. I was never more contented in my life.”
Toward morning he seemed better and stronger, and she left him a few moments to attend to some other duties. When she returned she saw to her horror that hemorrhage had taken place, and that his arm was bleeding rapidly. She sprang to his side, and with trained skill pressed her fingers on the brachial artery, thus stopping further loss of blood instantly. Then calling to the orderly, she told him to lose not a second in summoning the surgeon.
Roger looked up into her terror-stricken face, and said quietly, ”Millie, I'm not afraid to die. Indeed I half think it's best. I couldn't go on in the old way much longer--”
”Hush, hush,” she whispered.
”No,” he said decisively, ”my mission to you is finished. You will be an angel of mercy all your days, but I find that after all my ambitious dreams I'm but an ordinary man. You are stronger, n.o.bler than I am. You are a soldier that will never be defeated. You think to save my life by holding an artery, but the wound that was killing me is in my heart. I don't blame you, Millie--I'm weak--I'm talking at random--”
”Roger, Roger, I'm not a soldier. I am a weak, loving woman. I love you with my whole heart and soul, and if you should not recover you will blot the sun out of my sky. I now know what you are to me. I knew it the moment I saw your unconscious face. Roger, I love you now with a love like your own--only it must be greater, stronger, deeper; I love you as a woman only can love. In mercy to me, rally and live--LIVE!”
He looked at her earnestly a moment, and then a glad smile lighted up his face.
”I'll live now,” he said quietly. ”I should be dead indeed did I not respond to that appeal.”
The surgeon appeared speedily, and again took up and tied the artery, giving stimulants liberally. Roger was soon sleeping with a quietude and rest in his face that a.s.sured Mildred that her words had brought balm and healing to a wound beyond the physician's skill, and that he would recover. And he did gain hourly from the time she gave him the hope for which he had so long and so patiently waited. It must be admitted that he played the invalid somewhat, for he was extremely reluctant to leave the hospital until the period of Mildred's duties expired.
A few months later, with Mrs. Heartwold--the Miss Wetheridge of former days--by her side, she was driven to Roger's house--her home now. The parlors were no longer empty, and she had furnished them with her own refined and delicate taste. But not in the midst of their beauty and s.p.a.ciousness was she married. Mr. Wentworth stood beneath the portraits of her kindred, and with their dear faces smiling upon her she gave herself to Roger. Those she loved best stood around her, and there was a peace and rest in her heart that was beyond joy.
When all were gone, Roger wheeled the low chair to its old place beside the glowing fire, and said:
”Millie, at last we both have a home. See how Belle is smiling at us.”
”Dear sister Belle,” Mildred murmured, ”her words have come true.
She said, Roger, when I was fool enough to detest you, that you 'would win me yet,' and you have--all there is of me.”
Roger went and stood before the young girl's smiling face, saying earnestly:
”Dear little Belle, 'we SHALL have good times together yet,' or else the human heart with its purest love and deepest yearning is a lie.”
Then turning, he took his wife in his arms and said, ”Millie darling, we shall never be without a home again. Please G.o.d it shall be here until we find the better home of Heaven.”
APPENDIX