Then, with tears in her eyes, Lady Elton would turn away. It was true, too true! Grace was slipping away from them. It was not her own fault. Her mother knew this well. Honestly, loyally, she strove to shake off her invalid ways, to be amongst them, to belong to them. But, alas! with every day the failure became more apparent. She was like a broken flower that not even the sunshine can revive. Something within her had snapped. The spirit of vitality that conquers pain and weakness, that God-implanted love of the dear Earth and all her homely ways, which will so often bring a sick soul back from the brink of the grave, had gone never to return, even at the bidding of human love, with all its passionate sweetness.
Now and then, after a sleepless night, the strain which she put on herself would, for a moment, be relaxed, and then those who loved her best would see a strange hunger in her eyes. It was as if she was holding out her hands to them and imploring them to let her go.
One morning Tom saw, or fancied he saw, this in her eyes. They were alone, for Aglaia, Grace's constant companion, after looking up pleadingly into the rajah's face and receiving no responsive smile, had slipped away. He flung himself on his knees by the couch, and catching her hands, which were as soft as snow, and only a little warmer, gazed speechlessly into her eyes. 'What is it, dear?' she said faintly.
'Grace,' he cried, 'what do you want? where are you going? what do you see? oh, God! what do you see—that you should wish to leave us?'
An expression of pain and perplexity crossed her face. 'Wish?' she echoed as if she had not understood the word.
He laid his burning face on her hands. 'Darling,' he said humbly, 'is there anything we can do—anything we can give you? I would give my life, Grace, all I have and am, for you.'
But still she looked at him dreamily; and then all at once the futility of his prayers came home to him, and with a sob, which he could not repress, he rose slowly to his feet. Fool! Will even a child be drawn from its home by bribes and kisses? It was her home, the vision sweet and awful of the Divine, that was beckoning to her, and he was trying, by his poor love, to hold her to the little joys and sorrows of life.
But reason as he would with himself, his heart was sore. Like Trixy, he could not give up without a fight, and, on the evening of that day, he sent for a doctor. His messengers travelled night and day. The doctor, a civilian of some experience, who had come out a year or two before, to make his fortune, lost no time. A week after the message had been despatched he was lodged in the palace.
He saw Grace, and was puzzled as men of his profession generally are by what seem like abnormal ailments. Who has any right to be ill, except by rule of thumb? Pushed into a corner, he spoke vaguely of mental shock, recommended quiet, which she had been having, Tom said despairingly, for weeks, and set himself to watch and take notes. Alas! the notes did not help him much. When he had been in close attendance upon her for a week he was further from that full understanding of her case, which, he had said, would enable him to deal with it satisfactorily, than he had been at the beginning.
And yet she was patient and perfectly submissive, taking everything he prescribed and never refusing to answer his questions.