“He is still living,” said Roy, not daring to give an evasive answer to the blue eyes which seemed to look into his very heart. Whether she had feared the worst, or had hoped for better news, he could hardly tell; she turned deathly white, and her lips quivered piteously.
“I will see to your luggage,” he said; “but before you go to him you must have something to eat; I see you are quite worn out with the long journey, and unless you are calm, you will only agitate him.”
She did not speak a word, but passively allowed him to take her to the refreshment-room and get her some tea; she even made a faint effort to attack the roll and butter which had been placed before her, but felt too completely tired out to get on with it. Roy, seeing how matters were, quietly drew the plate away, cut the roll into thin slices, and himself spread them for her. It was months since they had parted at Balholm as friendly fellow-travelers, yet it seemed now to Sigrid the most natural thing in the world to depend on him, while he, at the first glimpse of her questioning face, at the first grasp of her hand, had realized that he loved her. After her lonely journey, with its lack of sympathy, it was inexpressibly comforting to her to have beside her one who seemed instantly to perceive just what she needed. To please him she tried hard to eat and drink, and before long they were driving to Vauxhall, and all fear lest she should break down was over.
“Now,” she said at last, “tell me more about his illness. What brought it on?”
“The doctor says it must have been brought on by a great shock, and it seems that he heard very sad news that day of Lady Romiaux.”
“I knew it was that wretched girl in some way,” cried Sigrid, clenching her hand. “I wish she were dead!”
He was startled by her extreme bitterness, for by nature she was gentle, and he had not expected such vehemence from her.
“She is, as Frithiof incessantly says, ‘Worse than dead,’” replied Roy. “It is a miserable story. Apparently he got hold of some newspaper, read it all, and was almost immediately broken down by it. They say he was hardly himself when he left the shop that night, and the next evening, when I saw him, I found him delirious.”
“It is his brain that is affected, then?” she faltered.
“Yes; he seems to have been out of health for a long time, but he never would give way. All the troubles of last autumn told on him, and this was merely, as they say, the last straw. But if only we could get him any sleep, he might even now recover.”