"Well, have the consultation as soon as possible, for this uncertainty is harder to bear than the knowledge of a speedy death," said Mr. Sherwood.

Oh, the agony of that hour, when Dexie waited, with the rest of the family, the verdict of the a.s.sembled doctors. As she knelt by her bed, her face buried in the pillows, she felt as if the worst could not be much harder to bear than this dreadful suspense. She dreaded the sound that would summon her to her father's bedside, yet, when it came, she rose to obey with a firm step, though the white face, from which her eyes shone almost black in their intensity, was proof of the anxiety that filled her heart.

"My dear little girl," and her father pressed the hand she laid in his, "it is not so bad as we feared, after all. Dr. Brown, will you go and tell my wife? Dexie, do you think you will get tired waiting on me if I have to lie here a few more months?"

"Oh, papa!" She could not restrain the tears that sprang to her eyes, so she laid her head on the pillow beside him until she could lift a quiet face.

"Don't fret, Dexie, dear!" and he fondly stroked the head so near him.

"I am likely to live for months, and you are such a capital little nurse that it will not be such a hardship to spend the rest of my life on my back."

Yes, that was the verdict. Mr. Sherwood could never hope to walk again or be a well man; but he would probably live for some time, his splendid const.i.tution being in his favor.

This was hard news for the family; but they had feared the worst, and so felt thankful for the extended time that might intervene before the end would come.

Mrs. Sherwood engaged the a.s.sistance of Mrs. Jarvis, an excellent nurse, to attend on her husband; and as Dexie shared the nursing and relieved Mrs.

Jarvis, Mrs. Sherwood considered she had done her duty well and faithfully.

She did not feel strong enough to do very much of the laborious part of nursing, but she was willing to make her appearance in the sick-room when the patient was at his best. She had been present once when her husband had been seized with a paroxysm of pain, and was so terrified and overcome that she felt more than willing to leave her husband to the care of those who were "so hard-hearted that they could witness such suffering," and still be able to administer the necessary relief.

As the weeks pa.s.sed by and Mr. Sherwood grew no worse, it seemed impossible to think that the "grim messenger" was really lurking in the shadow, for he bore his illness with such patience and cheerfulness that only those who were constantly about him realized how he really suffered.

Mr. Traverse was always a welcome visitor, for Mr. Sherwood could never forget that awful moment when death stared them both in the face, and how Traverse had kept the flying timbers from crashing into his pinioned body, receiving on his own head and arm the blows he might have escaped.

Dexie had listened with averted face and tear-dimmed eyes to the story as it fell from her father's lips, and she found it hard to meet her hero without betraying something of the feeling which his n.o.ble conduct had awakened in her heart.

His frequent visits were both a joy and a pain to her, though why she felt glad to hear his step, yet dreaded to meet his glance, she could not have explained.

Gussie was able now to meet Mr. Traverse without that feeling of mortification which she experienced after she had read his love-letter before her guests. His manner to her was as kind and respectful as ever, and she hoped he had almost forgotten the circ.u.mstance. How often that thoughtless act had been regretted no one knew but herself. There was no chance of adding his name to her list of admirers, for he kept her at a distance, even when his manner was most kind. She often wondered if his _city girl_, as she styled her, had yet relented, or if he had given up all hope of winning her. How he must have cared for her to write such a letter!

If she had learned the true facts of the case, and found out that the letter was really Dexie's, as she at first supposed, she would have put aside the fact that her conduct was none the less reprehensible, and would have used all her arts to win him to her side. As it was, she was more willing to sit by her father's side during the time Mr. Traverse was present than at any other time during the day.

One evening when Mr. Traverse was sitting by Mr. Sherwood's bedside, Gussie also being in the room, one of those sudden attacks that always came on without a moment's warning seized upon Mr. Sherwood, and Mr. Traverse was so alarmed that for a moment he lost his presence of mind; but Gussie's shrill screams, as she rushed out of the room, aroused him. Something should be done for the sufferer, he knew not what, and reaching for the bell-cord that hung over the head of the bed he gave it a hasty pull, and as he did so Dexie was beside him.

She took in the situation at a glance, her rapid movements relieving Mr.

Traverse from the fear and apprehension that had seized him, and the means of relief were soon at hand.

"Raise his head on your arm a moment," she said, coming quickly to the bedside. "Not quite so much; there. I must get this into his mouth somehow.

Thank you. Now, lay him down very carefully." A practical knowledge of what was required made her movements swift, though quiet, and she worked about him with a firm, steady hand. She was able to witness her father's agony and still keep her wits about her; but this was positive proof to her mother that Dexie had "no feelings."

Mr. Sherwood was soon able to look the thanks he could not express, and Dexie took a fan that lay near at hand and began, with a gentle motion, to fan her father's flushed face. Guy noticed for the first time that the tears were flowing down her cheeks, though she gave no sign of her distress, nor made any movement to wipe them away lest that act should betray them.

"Let me do that much, Dexie?" was the low, whispered words, as he took the fan from Dexie's fingers.

He drew a chair softly to the bedside, and kept up the gentle motion until Guy felt a.s.sured that the sufferer was asleep.

Dexie was kneeling by the bedside, intently watching her father's face through her tears, and she started when Guy laid his hand across her clasped palms, and whispered, "Come away, Dexie; he is sleeping."

She rose at his bidding, and he drew her to the window.

"This has been very hard on you, Dexie, and you have borne it bravely," he whispered softly, holding her trembling hands in his own. "Do not try to hide the tears from me. Am I not your friend?"

The touch of his hand and the tenderness of his voice touched a chord in Dexie's heart and sent a thrill through every nerve, and she raised her eyes to his for one brief moment; but in that short time she read a story that might have filled a volume, and no one could now say of her that "her heart had not yet awakened," for she knew the truth at last.

The appearance of Mrs. Jarvis at this moment was a welcome relief to Dexie, and giving a hasty account of her father's late attack she hurried from the room. She felt she must get away from everyone and face this new thing that had come upon her.

As she pa.s.sed into the hall she found Guy Traverse waiting for her.

"May I ask for a few minutes, Miss Dexie?" he asked, in a low voice. "I have something I would like to say to you to-night."

"Please excuse me to-night, Mr. Traverse," she replied, without lifting her eyes. "I do not feel able to see anyone just now."

"Some other time, Dexie, then. Good-night," and he held her hand one moment in his, and turned to leave the house.

He did not seem particularly pleased to find Gussie waiting at the parlor door for him; but he intended to pa.s.s on and go home.

"Oh! Mr. Traverse you are not going home so soon, surely!" she cried. "I wanted your opinion of a new book that was sent to me to-day. Is papa not better?" seeing the altered expression on his face.

"Yes, he is better now, I believe, but you must excuse me to-night, Miss Sherwood; your book must wait for some future time. Good evening," and the door closed softly behind him.

As Guy turned the corner of the house, intending to take a short cut to his hotel through the back garden, there issued from an open window such music as Guy had never heard before--so soft, so sad, yet so exquisitely sweet that he stopped for a moment to listen. He had often listened to Dexie's playing; but he never had heard her play a piece like that, and he drew nearer the window.

He could see her through the thin curtain that hid him from view; and as he stood and watched her, he wondered what it was that had the power to call up such an expression to her face. But as he looked the music suddenly ceased, and Dexie's face was buried in her hands, and he could hear the sobs that shook her frame. He longed to speak to her, yet dared not. He knew he had no right even to witness her emotion, and he turned silently and sadly away. Could he have been mistaken, after all? That one brief moment when Dexie had looked into his eyes he felt sure of her love, and his heart had throbbed with joy; and but for that interruption he might even now be holding her against his breast, while he poured into her ears the story of his love.

But her tears and grief seemed a denial of his hopes. Had thoughts of her absent lover given her that glorified look on which he had based his hopes?

If Guy Traverse had been permitted to read a part of the letter which Dexie penned that evening before retiring, he would not have waited so long before testing the value of his hopes, for he would have guessed the meaning of the words sent to "the lover over the sea."

"I have thought several times lately that you are not so open and frank with me as you used to be. Are you keeping something from me, Lancy? I wonder if you have found out the truth of the words I said to you in Halifax. Do not forget that it was to be 'honor bright' between us. I am beginning to hope that my surmises are correct, but I know it is hardly fair to force a confession from you that I shrink from making myself. It may be true that 'open confession is good for the soul,' but I find it is particularly mortifying to the body.

"But I have been talking to you through the piano to-night, Lancy, and I must set down in writing a little of what is in my mind, for I have to confess to you, Lancy, that I can no longer _honestly_ keep the ring that has stood 'for a sign between me and thee.' Now, do not mistake me, dear Lancy. I have heard no word of love from any man's lips since I left you, but for all that I have met someone that will always stand between you and me, and I really have little to tell you, only that under the conditions I cannot keep the ring any longer. Will you release me from any promise I may have given you, and tell me truly if you are not pleased that I asked for the release? You must not think that I have ceased to care for you, for there are times, when I am at the piano, that I would give all I ever possessed to have you beside me, and I have missed you more than I can tell. I see now that more than one kind of love can find room in the heart at one and the same time. Now, Lancy, if I have made a mistake in thinking that you may have had the same experience as myself, and this confession of mine grieves you, I will keep my promise still, _if you wish it_. I shall look anxiously for your answer."

But if Guy Traverse had no knowledge of this letter he was present when Gussie held out the answer across the table, with the words:

"Here is an extra heavy letter from over the sea, Dexie, and that bold handwriting tells the ident.i.ty of the writer at a glance, so there is no use to deny that it is from Lancy Gurney."

Guy saw no hope for him in the flushed face, and Dexie hurried from the room as soon as she had grasped the letter from Gussie's hand.

But Guy Traverse had no need to be so cast down, if he had only known it, for the letter said:

"I begin to fear that you are gifted with second-sight, and it is with shame I confess that I have not kept 'honor bright' with you. I was afraid you would not understand if I began to explain the matter, but your own confession has made it easier. I can hardly tell you what has happened, Dexie--it has all come about so suddenly that I hardly realize it myself; but I was thrown from a vicious horse while visiting at a country-seat, and was taken up insensible, and when I opened my eyes I found a sweet heart bending over me; but believe me, Dexie, I did not know it was so until her own lips confessed it, and she has become very dear to me since. But I have been in misery when I thought how you would despise me, and I feared your scorn. I shall always care for you, Dexie, as you care for me, and I am glad to know that the music still holds us together. I have a request to make, and if you will grant it I shall know that the admission in this letter has not wounded you. Do not send back the ring, but keep it and wear it occasionally. I have had a counterpart made of the little charm which I enclose in this, and I shall always keep it in memory of the happy hours we have spent together."

Dexie read this letter over a good many times before she laid it away under lock and key; but when she did so she took from its hiding-place the ring she had not looked at for months, and slipped it upon her finger.

"Yes, I will keep it and wear it, now that it means only friendship; of course he does not wish to have it back. I am so glad he has found someone else. He will never forget me, I am sure--I know that by my own feelings for him; but if he had kept me to my promise I--" but she finished the sentence in the innermost recesses of her heart.

Dexie's reply gave Lancy a feeling of relief. He must explain to his parents the change in his feelings, and he feared they would consider that he had wronged Dexie Sherwood; but her letters would prove the contrary, for did she not say:

"Your ring is on my finger as I write, and I never wore it with more willingness and pleasure than I do now, when it tells only of freedom and friendship. I have had those words engraved on the inside of the ring. Will you do the same with the token of friendship which you say you possess? I was sorry to hear you had taken the trouble to get one made after the same pattern, and I have a little scold all ready for you. Do not hide from your ladylove till after your marriage the little romance 'between me and thee.'