XXIX
She sat silent in one corner of the darkened room. It was the bedroomthat Frederick R. Woods formerly occupied--on the ground floor ofSelwoode, opening into the living-hall--to which they had carriedBilly.
Jukesbury had done what he could. In the bed lay Billy Woods, swathedin hot blankets, with bottles of hot water set to his feet. Jukesburyhad washed his face clean of that awful red, and had wrapped bandagesof cracked ice about his head and propped it high with pillows. Itwas little short of marvellous to see the pursy old hypocrite goingcat-footed about the room on his stealthy ministrations, replenishingthe bandages, forcing spirits of ammonia between Billy's teeth,fighting deftly and confidently with death.
Billy still breathed.
The Colonel came and went uneasily. The clock on the mantel ticked.Margaret brooded in a silence that was only accentuated by thathorrible wheezing, gurgling, tremulous breathing in the bed yonder.Would the doctor never come!
She was curiously conscious of her absolute lack of emotion.
But always the interminable thin whispering in the back of her headwent on and on. "Oh, if he had only died four years ago! Oh, if he hadonly died the dear, clean-minded, honest boy I used to know! When thatnoise stops he will be dead. And then, perhaps, I shall be able tocry. Oh, if he had only died four years ago!"
And then _da capo_. On and on ran the interminable thin whispering asMargaret waited for death to come to Billy. Billy looked so old now,under his many bandages. Surely he must be very, very near death.
Suddenly, as Jukesbury wrapped new bandages about his forehead, Billyopened his eyes and, without further movement, smiled placidly up athim.
"Hello, Jukesbury," said Billy Woods, "where's my armour?"
Jukesbury, too, smiled. "The man is bringing it downstairs now," heanswered, quietly.
"Because," Billy went on, fretfully, "I don't propose to miss theTrojan war. The princes orgulous with high blood chafed, you know, areall going to be there, and I don't propose to miss it."
Behind his fat back, Petheridge Jukesbury waved a cautioning hand atMargaret, who had risen from her chair.
"But it is very absurd," Billy murmured, in the mere ghost of a voice,"because men don't propose by mistake except in farces. Somebody toldme that, but I can't remember who, because I am a misogynist. That isa Greek word, and I would explain it to Peggy, if she would only giveme a chance, but she can't because she has those seventeen hundredand fifty thousand children to look after. There must be some way toexplain to her, though, because where there's a will there is alwaysa way, and there were three wills. Uncle Fred should not have left somany wills--who would have thought the old man had so much ink in him?But I will be a very great painter, Uncle Fred, and make her sorry forthe way she has treated me, and _then_ Kathleen will understand I wastalking about Peggy."
His voice died away, and Margaret sat with wide eyes listening for itagain. Would the doctor never come!
Billy was smiling and picking at the sheets.
"But Peggy is so rich," the faint voice presently complained--"sobeastly rich! There is gold in her hair, and if you will look veryclosely you will see that her lashes were pure gold until she dippedthem in the ink-pot. Besides, she expects me to sit up and beg forlumps of sugar, and I _never_ take sugar in my coffee. And Peggydoesn't drink coffee at all, so I think it is very unfair, especiallyas Teddy Anstruther drinks like a fish and she is going to marry him.Peggy, why won't you marry me? You know I've always loved you, Peggy,and now I can tell you so because Uncle Fred has left me all hismoney. You think a great deal about money, Peggy. You said it was thegreatest thing in the world. And it must be, because it is the onlything--the _only_ thing, Peggy--that has been strong enough to keepus apart. A part is never greater than the whole, Peggy, but I willexplain about that when you open that desk. There are sharks in it.Aren't there, Peggy?--_aren't_ there?"
His voice had risen to a querulous tone. Gently the fat old manrestrained him.
"Yes," said Petheridge Jukesbury; "dear me, yes. Why, dear me, ofcourse."
But his warning hand held Margaret back--Margaret, who stood with bigtears trickling down her cheeks.
"Dearer than life itself," Billy assented, wearily, "but before God,loving you as I do, I wouldn't marry you now for all the wealth in theworld. I forget why, but all the world is a stage, you know, and theydon't use stages now, but only railroads. Is that why you rail at meso, Peggy? That is a joke. You ought to laugh at my jokes, because Ilove you, but I can't ever, ever tell you so because you are rich. Arich man cannot pass through a needle's eye. Oh, Peggy, Peggy, I loveyour eyes, but they're so _big_, Peggy!"
So Billy Woods lay still and babbled ceaselessly. But through all hisirrelevant talk, as you may see a tributary stream pulse unsulliedin a muddied river, ran the thought of Peggy--of Peggy, and of hercruelty, and of her beauty, and of the money that stood between them.
And Margaret, who could never have believed him in his senses,listened and knew that in his delirium, the rudder of his thoughtssnapped, he could not but speak truth. As she crouched in the cornerof the room, her face buried in an arm-chair, her gold hair halfloosened, her shoulders monotonously heaving, she wept gently,inaudibly, almost happily.
Almost happily. Billy was dying, but she knew now, past any doubting,that he loved her. The dear, clean-minded, honest boy had comeback to her, and she could love him now without shame, and there wasonly herself to be loathed.
"Regarded them with alert eyes."]
Then the door opened. Then, with Colonel Hugonin, came Martin Jeal--awisp of a man like a November leaf--and regarded them from under hisshaggy white hair with alert eyes.
"Hey, what's this?" said Dr. Jeal. "Eh, yes! Eh--yes!" he meditated,slowly. "Most irregular. You must let us have the room, Miss Hugonin."
In the hall she waited. Hope! ah, of course, there was no hope! thethin little whisper told her.
By and bye, though--after centuries of waiting--the three men cameinto the hall.
"Miss Hugonin," said Dr. Jeal, with a strange kindness in his voice,"I don't think we shall need you again. I am happy to tell you,though, that the patient is doing nicely--very nicely indeed."
Margaret clutched his arm. "You--you mean----"
"I mean," said Dr. Jeal, "that there is no fracture. A slightconcussion of the brain, madam, and--so far as I can see--no signs ofinflammation. Barring accidents, I think we'll have that young man outof bed in a week. Thanks," he added, "to Mr.--er--Jukesbury here whoseprompt action was, under Heaven, undoubtedly the means of staving offmeningitis and probably--indeed, more than probably--the meansof saving Mr. Woods's life. It was splendid, sir, splendid! Nodoctor--why, God bless my soul!"
For Miss Hugonin had thrown her arms about Petheridge Jukesbury's neckand had kissed him vigorously.
"You beautiful child!" said Miss Hugonin.
"Er--Jukesbury," said the Colonel, mysteriously, "there's a littlecognac in the cellar that--er--" The Colonel jerked his thumb acrossthe hallway with the air of a conspirator. "Eh?" said the Colonel.
"Why--er--yes," said Mr. Jukesbury. "Why--ah--yes, I think I might."
They went across the hall together. The Colonel's hand restedfraternally on Petheridge Jukesbury's shoulder.