Part 19 (2/2)

She answered feebly. Was too fatigued to seek explanation. He was there, going home with her--that was enough.

”In some way, yes. But there was no mistake in your thinking me capable of such brutality as----”

He stopped. Recollected the words he had himself used to her in his anger at their last meeting. She was ent.i.tled to judge him so; was fully justified. The reflection was bitter as gall.

She had no suspicion why he paused. Had she known, her answer might have been different. As it was she said meekly:

”Please don't be angry with me.”

It would have been impossible for her to choose words more likely to touch him in his present mood of self-reproach. She spoke too with such an appeal in her tremulous voice, that retention of his anger would have meant changing his whole nature.

He strode on. It was all she could do to keep up with him. His anxiety was to get where he might be of help. He forgot; he had had so little to do with women.

They reached the bungalow. Divested themselves of their outdoor garments in the hall. The house was so quiet, Death himself might have been in possession. It struck an unpleasant chill to the new comer.

Then he followed her to the sick room.

CHAPTER XVI

G.o.d'S LITTLE BOY

Gracie was sitting up in bed, propped up by the pillows. Masters gave a sigh of relief: they were not too late. Death might be knocking at the door, but had not yet been admitted.

The child looked expectantly at the door as her mother opened it. Her cheeks and eyes were bright with the fever in them. Then the expectant look mellowed into a smile. She had seen the man behind!

”I knew you would come, Prince Charlie!”

”Of course you did! Knew I should come when I knew you wanted me. I shouldn't have been much of a Prince Charlie if I hadn't, should I?”

Masters sat on the bed with his back against the headrail. Put his arm round the little one and snuggled her to him. She nestled up to him with a croon--a little grunting e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of content--as he tucked the clothes closely round her. Did not seem to desire to talk, was just simply happy in having him there. He inquired:

”Comfy?”

”Awful.”

He was grieved to feel how she had fallen away. How, in a few days, she had grown so thin. For the mother's and child's sakes, he made no outward manifestation of his grief: expressed no surprise. He felt that his mission just then was to brighten, not to shed gloom. Spoke jestingly:

”Now that Prince Charlie is here, what have you to say to his royal highness? Nothing?”

”I dreamed a dream, Prince Charlie!”

”Oh!”

”Yes. That you were married to me; that you were my husband.”

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