Theodora ran up-stairs. Violet understood the suppressed call in the dressing-room, and met her with outstretched arms.
The children never forgot that evening, so delightful did the owl-man make himself. Helen even offered him a kiss, and wished him good night, saucily calling him Percy; and Johnnie set his aunt’s cheeks in a glow by saying, ‘It ought to be Uncle Percy, if he belonged to Aunt Helen.’
‘What do you know of Aunt Helen?’ said Percy, lifting him on his knee, with a sudden change of manner.
Johnnie’s face was deeply tinged; he bent down his head and did not answer, till, when the inquiry was repeated, he whispered, ‘Mamma said Aunt Helen was so very good. Mamma read to me about the dew-drops, in her written book. She told me about her when I had the blister on, because, she said, her thoughts helped one to be patient and good.’
Percy put his arm round him, and his sigh or movement surprised Johnnie, who uneasily looked at his aunt. ‘Ought I not to have said it?’
‘Yes, indeed, Johnnie, boy. There is nothing so pleasant to me to hear,’ said Percy. ‘Good night; I shall like you all the better for caring for my dear sister Helen.’
‘Being dead, she yet speaketh,’ murmured he, as the children went. ‘Strange how one such tranquil, hidden life, which seemed lost and wasted, has told and is telling on so many!’
Even the peace and happiness of that evening could not remove the effects of over-fatigue, and Percy insisted on Theodora’s going early to rest, undertaking again to watch by Arthur. She objected, that he had been up all last night.
‘I cannot go home to bed. If you sent me away, I should wander in the Square, apostrophizing the gas-lamps, and be found to-morrow in the station, as a disorderly character. You had better make my superfluous energies available in Arthur’s service. Ask if I may come in.’
Theodora thought the sick-room had acquired quite a new aspect. A Sunday air pervaded the whole, seeming to radiate from Violet, as she sat by the fire; the baby asleep, in his little pink-lined cradle, by her side. The patient himself partook of the freshened appearance, as the bright glow of firelight played over his white pillows, his hair smooth and shining, and his face where repose and cheerfulness had taken the place of the worn, harassed expression of suffering. Of the welcome there could be no doubt. Arthur’s hands were both held out, and did not let her go, after they had drawn her down to kiss him and sit beside him on the bed.