Rosamond put her arm round her, and supported her into the next room; for, after the month of hopeless watching, the long sleeplessness and the struggle of this silent day to force her spirit to the forgiveness she had promised, and then the sudden reaction, had overpowered her, and the suppression and silence were beyond endurance. She did not even know that Herbert was awake when Rosamond brought her out into Mrs. Hornblower’s room, and said, “Have it out now, my dear, no one will hear. Scream comfortably. It will do you good.”
But Jenny could not even scream. She was in the excited agony when the mind is far too much for the body, and joy, unrealized, is like grief. If her brother had that day passed away, and if nothing had been heard of her lover, she would have been all calmness and resignation; but the revulsion had overcome her, and at the moment she was more conscious of strangulation than of anything else. Rosamond tended her for full half an hour, and then she seemed almost asleep, though she resisted the attempt to undress her, with the words, “I must go to Herbert.”
“I will take care of Herbert,” and Jenny was too much spent not to acquiesce, and fell asleep almost before she was laid down on the bed their landlady had given up to the watchers.
Rosamond’s task was a comfortable one, for every hour of sleep, every mouthful of food seemed to do its work of restoration on the sound, healthy frame, and a smile and word of thanks met her whenever she roused her patient with the inevitable spoon.
When he awoke towards morning, he asked what day it was, and when she told him, answered, “So I thought. Then I have not lost count of time.”
“No, you have been wonderfully clear-headed.”
“I can’t see how there can have been time to write,” he said. “It is true that he is come, is it not?”
“Quite true; but he came independently on business,” and Rosamond told of Julius’s chase, bringing a look of amusement on his face.
Jenny came in with the rising sun, pale indeed, but another creature after her rest and in the sight of the restful countenance that greeted her with a smile. The moaning, hoarse voice was gone too, it was a faint shadow of Herbert’s own tones that said, “Is not this good, Jenny? I didn’t think to have seen it.”
“My Herbert, you have given him back! You have given me the heart to be glad!”