Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 707, July 14, 1877Various
History
Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 707, July 14, 1877
Various
Periodicals
She appeared for a moment to be searching in her mind for the best way
of telling me, and at the same time expressing her sympathy; then with
lowered eyes replied: 'I loved Tom--I always shall love him--and he
can't love me.'
She knew then! Probably every one but myself had seen it!
'In that case, you know that such things are not to be talked about,
Becky.'
'Yes, Miss; only'----
'I know that it was your regard for me which made you mention it. But
we need all our strength just now--you as well as I--and we must not
think or speak of anything that will weaken it. I want your help, and
to help me you must be cool and quiet and strong. Will you try to be
that?'
'Yes; I will--I will indeed, dear Miss Haddon;' eagerly adding: 'What
can I do?'
I stood pressing my two hands upon my temples in anxious thought a few
moments, then asked: 'Do I look unlike my usual self, Becky--ill? Tell
me exactly how I look to you?' thinking of the effect which the first
sight of me had had upon her!
'Yes; you look terrible white, and wild, and trembling; and there's
great black rims round your eyes,' gravely and straightforwardly
replied Becky.
'As though I had been frightened by the storm. There has been a storm;
hasn't there?'
'Yes; there's been a terrible storm, Miss; but'----
'Go on, Becky.'
'You're not the sort to look like that about a storm.'
'I see.'
If that was Becky's opinion, the storm would not do for Lilian and Mrs
Tipper, and the alteration in my appearance must be accounted for in
some other way. I was seeking about in my mind for a way out of the
difficulty, when Becky unconsciously helped me with the exclamation:
'O Miss Haddon, dear, what have you done to your hand?'
Looking down, I saw that there was a slight wound in it--made I suppose
when I fell, by a nail or sharp stone--and that it had been bleeding
somewhat freely.
'Nothing to hurt, Becky,' I murmured; 'but it will serve my purpose.
Give me a handkerchief--quick! and now another!'
She understood me; and when Lilian presently came running up, she found
appearances sufficiently sanguinary--quite enough so, to account for
my looking strange and unlike my usual self.
'Dear Mary, what is it? Oh, how have you hurt yourself?'
It was really a very superficial wound; but of course I did not explain
that; making a little demonstration about the wrapping up with Becky's
assistance.
'It has made you look quite ill, dear!' went on Lilian, kneeling down
by my side. 'Let _me_ tie that, Becky.'
But Becky would not yield an inch until I had given her a little look
of reminder, and then did so very reluctantly.
'And your clothes are quite wet, darling!' ejaculated Lilian. 'You must
have been out in all that storm. Fearful, wasn't it? Could not you find
any shelter?'
'No; it had to be borne as best it might,' I grimly replied; though
I called myself to order at once; a startled look in Lilian's eyes
shewing me that I could not talk about storms with impunity as yet.
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