Part 86 (2/2)
Mrs. Dodd rose hastily, and her first impulse was to ask both gentlemen to retire: so instinctively does a good woman protect her own s.e.x against the other. But, reflecting that this was the father, she made an excuse and retired herself instead, followed by Julia. The doctor divined, and went to the window. The father sat by the bed, and soon gathered his daughter loved Edward Dodd.
The time was gone by when this would have greatly pained him.
He sighed like one overmatched by fate; but said, ”You shall have him, my darling; he is a good young man, he shall be your husband, you shall be happy. Only live for my sake, for all our sakes.” She paid no attention and wandered on a little; but her mind gradually cleared, and by-and-bye she asked quietly for a gla.s.s of water. Mr. Hardie gave it her. She sipped, and he took it from her. She looked at him close, and said distinctly, ”Have you sent for Alfred?”
”No, love, not yet.”
”Not yet? There is no time to lose,” she said gravely.
Mr. Hardie trembled. Then, being alone with her, the miserable man unable to say no, unwilling to say yes, tried to persuade her not to ask for Alfred. ”My dear,” he whispered, ”I will not refuse you: but I have a secret to confide to you. Will you keep it?”
”Yes, papa, faithfully.”
”Poor Alfred is not himself. He has delusions: he is partly insane. My brother Thomas has thought it best for us all to put him under gentle restraint for a time. It would r.e.t.a.r.d his cure to have him down here and subject him to excitement.”
”Papa,” said Jane, ”are you deceiving me, or are you imposed upon?
Alfred insane! It is a falsehood. He came to me the night before the wedding that was to be. Oh, my brother, my darling brother, how dare they say you are insane! That letter you showed me then was a falsehood?
Oh, papa!”
”I feared to frighten you,” said Mr. Hardie, and hung his head.
”I see it all,” she cried ”those wicked men with their dark words have imposed on you. Bring him to me that I may reconcile you all, and end all this misery ere I go hence and be no more seen.”
”Oh, my child, don't talk so,” cried Mr. Hardie, trembling. ”Think of your poor father.”
”I do,” she cried, ”I do. Oh, papa, I lie here between two worlds, and see them both so clear. Trust to me: and, if you love me----”
”If I love you, Jane? Better than all the world twice told.”
”Then don't refuse me this one favour: the last, perhaps, I shall ever ask you. I want my brother here before it is too late. Tell him he must come to his little sister, who loves him dearly, and--is dying.
”Oh no! no! no!” cried the agonised father, casting everything to the winds. ”I will. He shall be here in twelve hours. Only promise me to bear up. Have a strong will; have courage. You shall have Alfred, you shall have anything you like on earth, anything that money can get you.
What am I saying? I have no money; it is all gone. But I have a father's heart. Madam, Mrs. Dodd!” She came directly.
”Can you give me paper? No, I won't trust to a letter. I'll send off a special messenger this moment. It is for my son, madam. He will be here to-morrow morning. G.o.d knows how it will all end. But how can I refuse my dying child? Oh, madam, you are good, kind, forgiving; keep my poor girl alive for me: keep telling her Alfred is coming; she cares more for him than for her poor heart-broken father.”
And the miserable man rushed out, leaving Mrs. Dodd in tears for him.
He was no sooner gone than Julia came in; and clasped her mother, and trembled on her bosom. Then Mrs. Dodd knew she had overheard Mr.
Hardie's last words.
Jane Hardie, too, though much exhausted by the scene with her father, put out her hand to Julia, and took hers, and said feebly, but with a sweet smile, ”He is coming, love; all shall be well.” Then to herself as it were, and looking up with a gentle rapture in her pale face--
”Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of G.o.d.”
On this thought she seemed to feed with innocent joy; but for a long time was too weak to speak again.
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