A mist was before his eyes. He did not see Lady Elton, who was chafing the poor little feet that were deadly cold. The room, the bed, the flowers, the rich and costly things that were scattered about her, had vanished away. He was in the hermit's hut once more, and his darling, torn from the jaws of death, was at his feet. With an inarticulate cry, he threw himself on his knees and held out his arms. She sank into them like a tired child, a smile of ineffable peace on her lips. But the touch of her cold cheek recalled him to the present. 'She is worse,' he said, looking at her with eyes full of anguish. 'Mother, for God's sake, can nothing be done?'
Sorrowfully the poor mother shook her head. She had looked on death too often not to know it.
At that moment there was another voice—a cry stifled but full of pain. It was Trixy. With white gown and bare feet, her hair flying wildly about her shoulders, she stood in the doorway between the two rooms. In an instant she had taken it all in, and was rushing madly across the room. 'You are dreaming, all of you,' she cried. 'She is in a swoon; I know it is nothing else. Where is that cordial? She was nearly off yesterday, and I brought her back with it. And the doctor. Aglaia, fly for him! Tell him Grace is in a faint. Tom, give her this; she must take it, she must. Heavens! how helpless men are! let me try! Grace, sweetest, it is Trixy, your sister. For her sake! see love!'—her tears were raining over the white hands—'Grace, I shall never be happy again if you leave us! Try this once, and no one shall torture you again as long as you live. One little drop if you love me!' The spoon was between her lips, but it was in vain, she could not swallow. Yet the sister's passionate agony had done what the lover's voice could not. For an instant the heavy eyelids were lifted. Ah! what a look! dumb pain! speechless entreaty! To the day of her death it will haunt the sister's heart; she will see it in her dreams. The rest was like a trance, a vision. She seemed to hear a voice whispering to her to be still, and then a great chill struck her, and she smiled to think that she was going away with Grace, and there was a confusion of many hands and voices about her, and she thought with a vague pity of Bertie; and the next thing she knew she was starting out of what seemed like a deep sleep and seeing her mother sitting beside her; but when she tried to get up, and said that she would go to Grace, her mother laid her hand upon her. 'Grace died last night,' she said.
'Last night!' echoed Trixy, falling back.
'And you have slept all day, my poor little one,' said Lady Elton, stooping to kiss her.
Trixy lay like one bewildered.
'And Tom?' she said presently.
'I have not seen him since. I hope he has been sleeping too.'
'Poor Tom!' said Trixy, her eyes filling with tears. 'His trouble is greater than ours.'
'Yes; and think of all he has done for us. I shall thank God to the day of my death that we had this quiet happy time together,' said poor Lady Elton, with a little stifled sob.