Part 45 (2/2)

Elizabeth smiled, a faint rather sad smile. For, as she was was.h.i.+ng up the tea things, she had noticed Tom's voice grow feebler, and his features sharper and more wan.

”I'm very tired,” he said. ”I'm afraid to go to bed, I get such wretched nights; but I think, if I lay down in my clothes, I could go to sleep.”

Elizabeth helped him to the small pallet, shook his pillow, and covered him up as if he had been a child.

”You're very good to me,” he said, and looked up at her--Tom's bright, fond look of years ago. But it pa.s.sed away in a moment, and he closed his eyes, saying he was so terribly tired.

”Then I'll bid you good-by, for I ought to have been at home by now.

You'll take care of yourself, Tom, and I'll come and see you again the very first hour I can be spared. And if you want me you'll send to me at once? You know where?”

”I will,” said Tom. ”Its the same house, isn't it, in Russell Square?”

”Yes.” And they were both silent.

After a minute, Tom asked, in a troubled voice.

”Have you forgiven me?”

”Yes, Tom, quite.”

”Won't you give me one kiss, Elizabeth?”

She turned away. She did not mean to be hard, but somehow she could not kiss Esther's husband.

”Ah, well; it's all the same! good-by!”

”Good-by, Tom.”

But as she stood at the door, and looked back at him lying with his eyes shut, and as white as if he were dead, Elizabeth's heart melted.

He was her Tom, her own Tom, of whom she had been so fond, so proud; whose future she had joyfully antic.i.p.ated long before she thought of herself as mixed up with it; and he was dying, dying at four-and-twenty; pa.s.sing away to the other world, where, perhaps, she might meet him yet, with no cruel Esther between.

”Tom,” she said, and knelt beside him, ”Tom, I didn't mean to vex you. I'll try to be as good as a sister to you. I'll never forsake you as long as you live.”

”I know you never will.”

”Good-by, then for to-night.”

And she did kiss him, mouth to mouth, quietly and tenderly. She was so glad of it afterward.

It was late enough when she reached Russell Square; but n.o.body ever questioned the proceedings of Mrs. Hand, who was a privileged person.

She crept in beside her little Henry, and as the child turned in his sleep and put his arms about her neck, she clasped him tight, and thought there was still something to live for in this weary world.

All night she thought over what best could be done for Tom. Though she never deceived herself for a moment as to his state, still she thought, with care and proper nursing, he might live a few months.

Especially if she could get him into the Consumption Hospital, newly started in Chelsea, of which she was aware Mr. Ascott--who dearly loved to see his name in a charity list--was one of the governors.

<script>