Then everything was over, even the poor body was put away. He felt for an instant more than an orthodox solemnity, a tenderness which bred tears; then misery sprang upon him like a beast from the jungle. If he had not gone on his journey northward, if he had waited a few pitiful days, he would not be lying here, done for! His slight color vanished, his hand trembled, the skin of his face quivered.
"What is it?" Mayne's hand went back to his wrist.
He began babbling his formula. He tried not to say it, but his weak tongue would not be controlled, and Mayne looked down upon him more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life. His philosophic good-humor furnished him with no panacea to offer this smitten creature, returning in feebleness of mind to some forgotten piety of his youth.
It seemed to Stephen after a few days that he could, if he were clever enough, get Ellen back. He still had periods of pain, but his brain now worked smoothly. She had an angel's heart. If he needed her before, he needed her doubly now. Her youth was only a small part of her; he needed her cheerfulness, her devotion, her enthusiasm. In exchange he would give her riches, travel to the ends of the earth, everything she could desire. He would not be tyrannical over her, but she must be his. When the fires of his soul burned lowest he promised her liberty and riches—if she served him till his death! The meditations of his midnight hour had not yet worked their complete work upon him.
But where was Ellen? To-morrow was the latest day upon which she could be expected. He was to have sat up, but he would postpone it another day because they would certainly not let him both sit up and see a visitor.
When she did not come, he grew restless. She had attended dances, she had mentioned the names of young men. The weakness of body which had kept him humble and quiet had vanished, physical strength intensified each emotion.
When another day passed, his restlessness became apparent to his nurse. He would have inquired of Miss Knowlton but he believed that she enjoyed prying into his soul and he feared some betraying expression. He asked for his letters and was allowed to look over them. Miss MacVane had attended to his business correspondence and now awaited eagerly his further pleasure. He cared nothing for business correspondence—here was a letter from Ellen, written two weeks ago from the University—Miss Knowlton helped him with the stiff paper.
"She ought to be coming along," he said, trying to keep his excitement out of his weak voice.
"She came to the house some days ago to inquire and went on to her brother's. She asked for you by telephone from there—at least some one called from Ephrata."
Stephen turned his head away. Miss Knowlton spoke as though Ellen's inquiry were unimportant. He was sharply irritated. She needn't think that Ellen would not come!