Caddy's triple mirrorwas back on the dresser.
Mr. Burchard, in his long black cassock, offered his hand cordially.
"I am glad you could be with us, Mr. Belden," he began, but the otherbroke in:
"If you have tired her, if this--makes a difference--" he mutteredfiercely, "you will have me to settle with. Mind that!"
He hurried down the stairs, his hands still clinched. Peter was startingoff with the road-wagon. They nodded shortly at each other.
From then the time raced on incredibly. The great surgeon, with his twoassistants, was in the hall; he was on the stairs; he was lost to sight.There was a momentary rush and bustle, the closing of a door. Petercame out, whispering to himself, and disappeared somewhere. The others,clustered in the library, spoke fitfully.
"They carried her on a cot into the west room," somebody murmured closeto Belden. It was little Margaret. "I saw her. She waved her hand at me!I threw her a kiss. Miss Strong smiled at me--I love Miss Strong."
Aunt Lucia sobbed. Susy bit her lip and played with Billy's unwillinghand.
"Where's my father? Where's he gone?" he demanded. "Who's that otherwoman with the apron?"
Miss Strong appeared at the door. "She has taken the ether very wellindeed; they are much pleased," she said softly. They hung on her words,they overwhelmed her with questions. She soothed them like children.
It grew suddenly clear to Belden that Caddy would die. It must be so.He wondered that they had hoped for anything else. He was sorry forthem all. He watched indifferently while Miss Strong led the childrenaway--he knew she was taking them to their father. Later, while AuntLucia, on her knees, read through streaming eyes from her prayer-book,and Susy talked nervously to him, he watched the firm, full figure ofthe woman pacing up and down the piazza outside, her arm drawn throughhis restless boy's.
"God bless her!" he said aloud.
Afterwards he could never recall the consecutive happenings of the end.He saw only separate pictures.
In one, a strange young man opened the door and said the words thatfrightened them with delight.
In another, a drawn, old, white-faced man--surely not Dr.Jameson--leaned weakly in a chair, while a woman handed him a tiny glassof colored liquid.
In yet another, a father hid his face in his little daughter's bosomand sobbed, with shaking shoulders; his tall son smiled bravely over thebent head.
In the last picture he himself bore a part; for when he came upon hisshy, suspicious boy clasped in the kind arms of the woman whose browneyes, once seen, had haunted his thoughts ever since, he gathered themboth to him irresistibly. As he laid his cheek against hers, he feltthat it was wet with tears.
"It lies with you now," he whispered in her ear, "to give her back tous, well and strong. He says you can. Afterwards--"
She drew away from him.
"I--I must go. I am so glad--I will do my best," she answeredunsteadily.
He caught her hand. "And afterwards?" he repeated, a growing mastery inhis voice. She tried to meet his eyes, but her own fell, conquered.
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