"No; it is not failure. It is only—I think we can say more another day. I am not—so very strong yet." Fulvia knew that she could bear no more. "Will you please tell madre and the girls—tell them it is my doing? I am going upstairs now, for a little rest. Nobody need come."
She gave him a farewell glance, and passed away, before he could detain her. Once locked in her own room, the knowledge of what she had done overcame her utterly. But by the time Mrs. Browning begged for entrance, she was herself again.
"Fulvia, my dear, what is this? What does this mean?" Mrs. Browning asked in great distress.
Fulvia threw her arms round the gentle woman, hiding her blistered face.
"It only means, dear madre, that I am your own child again—Nigel's sister! We needn't talk much about it, need we? Only please help me to be good and brave. I know I am right, and you know it too! We must think of—Nigel's happiness—must we not? Mother, help me to be brave!" sobbed Fulvia.
[CHAPTER XXXI]
NIGEL'S LOVE
"Then He gave her peace,—
Because her heart had learned to rest on Him—
His perfect peace . . .
. . . And so it was that she
Who looked on life and death with hate and fear,
Saw in her life a happy pilgrimage
On toward a better country, which she sought
With longing." —S. J. STONE.
ETHEL was lying on the couch in the Rectory dining-room. She could not sit up for any length of time. There was nothing radically wrong, Dr. Duncan said; but he did not like this persistent weakness. She seemed to have no rallying power.
"Nothing radically wrong—yet," he said; "but if any mischief should set in, things would go hardly with her." Sometimes he added—"If one could find a new interest—anything to rouse her!"