Book II
33. Chapter XXXIII.
(continued)
"As far as that? But I'm afraid you can't, dear . . ."
she said in an unsteady voice. "Not unless you'll take
me with you." And then, as he was silent, she went on,
in tones so clear and evenly-pitched that each separate
syllable tapped like a little hammer on his brain: "That
is, if the doctors will let me go . . . but I'm afraid they
won't. For you see, Newland, I've been sure since this
morning of something I've been so longing and hoping
for--"
He looked up at her with a sick stare, and she sank
down, all dew and roses, and hid her face against his
knee.
"Oh, my dear," he said, holding her to him while his
cold hand stroked her hair.
There was a long pause, which the inner devils filled
with strident laughter; then May freed herself from his
arms and stood up.
"You didn't guess--?"
"Yes--I; no. That is, of course I hoped--"
They looked at each other for an instant and again
fell silent; then, turning his eyes from hers, he asked
abruptly: "Have you told any one else?"
"Only Mamma and your mother." She paused, and
then added hurriedly, the blood flushing up to her
forehead: "That is--and Ellen. You know I told you
we'd had a long talk one afternoon--and how dear she
was to me."
"Ah--" said Archer, his heart stopping.
He felt that his wife was watching him intently. "Did
you MIND my telling her first, Newland?"
"Mind? Why should I?" He made a last effort to
collect himself. "But that was a fortnight ago, wasn't
it? I thought you said you weren't sure till today."
Her colour burned deeper, but she held his gaze.
"No; I wasn't sure then--but I told her I was. And you
see I was right!" she exclaimed, her blue eyes wet with
victory.
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