CHAPTER XXX.
“Sister,” he said, gently, bending down and lifting her wasted little hand to his lips.
She let him kiss it in dead silence. Her face had grown ashy white, the light had faded from her eyes, the color from her lips.
“Sister,” he repeated again, holding her hand and looking anxiously into her changed face; but Molly’s lips moved nervously without giving forth a sound.
“Doctor Laurens, she’s disappointed. She thought you would bring her husband,” Phebe said, bluntly.
“I did. I thought sheknew,” he replied, in surprise; and he continued, tenderly; “Yes, I have brought him back to you, little girl, after a hard chase, and may the Lord deliver me from ever again having to follow a man who has run away from his own misery. Jove! but he gave me a run, although I captured him at last, on one of the coldest peaks of Switzerland.”
Phebe rejoined, impatiently:
“I have told her he was in the house, Doctor Laurens, but she was waiting for him to come to her here—in this room, you understand.”
He understood, for his face changed and clouded. He said, in an embarrassed tone:
“Ah!”
Molly seemed to recover speech. She faltered, anxiously:
“I long to see him.”
“Poor child!” exclaimed Doctor Charley, with ready sympathy. He hesitated a moment, then said, gently: “Try to be patient a little longer, my dear. He is apt to be a little hard when he is vexed and hurt; but—”
She interrupted him with a piercing cry.
“Do you mean that he will not forgive me—that he has no pity for me?”
“Gently, sister!” said Doctor Charley, full of sympathy for the forlorn young creature. “Listen, now, and do not interrupt me. Cecil is angry still, but he has come back to repair the wrong caused by your ignorance in wedding him under a false name. He will make you his wife again by a private ceremony here in this room tomorrow.”
“Oh, may Heaven bless him for that noble deed! I knew he could not desert me like that, when he learned all. Oh, Doctor Charley, bring him to me; I have so much to say to him!” Molly exclaimed, full of eager joy and hope.
He shook his head, and said, sadly enough:
“It is quite useless, my dear little sister, to ask me to bring him, for he has refused to come. He is angry still, as I told you, and he will not see you until the hour of the ceremony that makes you again his wife!”
She stared at him aghast, the momentary hopefulness fading from her face.
“Do not look at me like that—I could not move him!” he said, imploringly. “Come, be reasonable, my child. You did not expect him to forgive you all at once, did you?”
“No,” she faltered.
“And you were right,” he answered, reluctant to pain her, but knowing that her heart must be probedstill further ere it might be healed. “Cecil is very proud, you know, and he finds it hard to forgive your deceit. He thinks he is only to marry you again for the sake of the child that is coming to bear his name, but I am sure that underneath the crust of his anger and resentment his love for you lives yet.”
Her head drooped sadly to her breast, and she sighed heavily while he continued:
“It must be your task, my sister, to win this wounded heart back to you. Cecil is hard and proud, but he is just. When he sees your remorse and repentance he will be sorry for you, he will pity you, and with the coming of your child the cloud will pass from your lives, and you will be happy again.”
He spoke more sanguinely than he had cause to speak, but he believed that unless he could whisper some hope and comfort to that crushed heart, it must break beneath the weight of its shame and sorrow. And he was right, for as he ceased speaking she lifted her bowed head, and said, with a faint, wavering smile:
“God bless you for your prophecy, my noble brother! Ah, if the deepest devotion woman ever felt can melt his proud heart, I will lay that devotion at his feet and plead with him for pardon and love.”