United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Women -- Social conditions -- Fiction
He only folded his arms over his chest, sighed, and sat down, keeping
his eyes fixed on Olga. It was one o'clock before she ceased her
passionate pleading for protection from those whom she believed
intent upon sacrificing her, and then turning her face to the wail
she became silent, only occasionally muttering rapid indistinct
sentences.
For some time Mr. Palma sat with his elbow on his knee, and his head
resting on his hand, and even in that hour of deep anxiety and dread,
Regina realized that she was completely forgotten; that he had
neither looked at nor spoken to her.
Nearly a half-hour passed thus, and his gaze had never wandered from
the restless sufferer on the bed, when Regina rose and renewed the
cold cloths on her forehead. She counted the pulse, and while she
still sat on the edge of the bed, Olga half rose, threw herself
forward with her head in Regina's lap, and one arm clasped around
her. Softly the girl motioned to her guardian to place the bowl of
iced water within her reach, and, dipping her left hand in the water,
she stole her fingers lightly across the burning brow. Olga became
quiet, and by degrees the lids drooped over the inflamed eyes.
Patiently Regina continued her gentle cool touches, and at last she
was rewarded by seeing the sufferer sink into the first sleep that
had blessed her during her illness.
Fearing to move even an inch lest she should arouse her, and knowing
the physician's anxiety to secure repose, the slight figure sat like
a statue, supporting the head and shoulders of the sleeper. The clock
ticked on, and no other sound was audible, save a sigh from Mr.
Palma, and the heavy breathing of Olga. The former was leaning back
in his chair, with his arms crossed, and though Regina avoided
looking at him, she knew from the shimmer of his glasses, that his
eyes were turned upon her. Gradually the room grew cold, and she
raised her hand and pointed to a large shawl lying on a chair within
his reach. Very warily the two spread it lightly over the arms and
shoulders, without disturbing the sleeper. One arm was clasped about
Regina's waist, and the flushed face was pressed against her side.
So they watched until three o'clock, and then Mr. Palma saw that the
girl was wearied by the constrained, uncomfortable position. He had
been studying the colourless, mournful features that were as regular
and white as if fashioned in Pentelicus, and noted that the heavy
hair coiled low at the back of the head, gave a singularly graceful
outline to the whole. She kept her eyes bent upon the face in her
lap, and the beautiful lashes and snowy lids drooped over their blue
depth. He knew from the paling of her lips that she was faint and
tired, but he realized that she could be relieved only by the
sacrifice of that sound slumber, upon which Olga's welfare was so
dependent. If she stirred even a muscle the sleeper might awake to
renewed delirium.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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