She stood staring at him for a moment or two, as though she could not realise the information which he gave her. Then gradually she retreated to the bed, and sat upon it. “Dead, Mr. Forrest!” she said. He did not answer her, but handed her the letter, which she took and read as though it were mechanically. The letter was from Mr. Gorloch’s partner, and told her everything which it was necessary that she should know.
“Shall I leave you now?” he said, when he saw that she had finished reading it.
“Leave me; yes,—no. But you had better leave me, and let me think about it. Alas me, that I should have so spoken of him!”
“But you have said nothing unkind.”
“Yes; much that was unkind. But spoken words cannot be recalled. Let me be alone how, but come to me soon. There is no one else here that I can speak to.”
He went out, and finding that the hotel dinner was ready, he went in and dined. Then he strolled into the town, among the hot, narrow, dilapidated streets; and then, after two hours’ absence, returned to Miss Viner’s room. When he knocked, she came and opened the door, and he found that the floor was strewed with clothes. “I am preparing, you see, for my return. The vessel starts back for St. Thomas the day after to-morrow.”
“You are quite right to go,—to go at once. Oh, Miss Viner! Emily, now at least you must let me help you.”
He had been thinking of her most during those last two hours, and her voice had become pleasant to his ears, and her eyes very bright to his sight.
“You shall help me,” she said. “Are you not helping me when at such a time you come to speak to me?”