In the twinkling of an eye, Salome had learned the whole truth and standing there, she staggered and grasped the doorway for support, wishing that the heavens and earth would pass away—that death might smite her, and end the agony that never could be patiently endured.
Recently she had tutored herself to bear the loss of his love and the deprivation of his caresses,—she had mapped out a future in which her lot was one of loneliness,—but through all the network of coming years there ran like a golden cord binding 269 their destinies the precious hope that at least Dr. Grey would die as he had lived hitherto,—without giving to any woman the coveted place in his heart, where the orphan would sooner have reigned than upon the proudest throne in Europe.
She had prayed that, with this assurance, God would help her to be contented—would enable her to make her life useful and pure, and, like Dr. Grey’s, a blessing to those about her.
It had never occurred to her that the man whom she reverenced above all things human or divine, and whose exalted ideal of feminine perfection soared as far above her as the angels in Lebrun’s “Stoning of St. Stephen” soared above the sinning multitude below them—that the man whose fastidiousness concerning womanly character and deportment seemed exaggerated and almost morbid, could admire or defend, much less love that gray-haired widow, whom the world pronounced either a lunatic, or a scoffing, misanthropic infidel.
The discovery was so unexpected, so startling, that it partially stunned her; and, like one addicted to somnambulism, she softly crossed the room and stood behind Dr. Grey’s chair.
He had taken Mrs. Gerome’s hand to examine her pulse, and retained it in his, looking fondly at the dainty moulding of the fingers and the exquisite whiteness of the smooth skin. How long she stood there Salome never knew, for paralysis seemed creeping, numb and cold, over her heart and brain.
Dr. Grey saw that his exhausted patient was asleep, and knew that the opiate he had administered in the wine would not relinquish its hold until morning; and when her breathing became more quiet and regular he bent his head and softly kissed the hand that lay heavily in his.
Salome covered her face and groaned; and rising, he was for the first time cognizant of her presence. His face flushed deeply.
“How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to discover why you visit ‘Solitude’ so often.”