“I know what he had in mind, dear. You can go to him without a pang of regret.”
A moment later the girl was kneeling at her father’s side. There was no blemish on the beautiful face, no wasting, as of disease, and the blue eyes smiled tenderly, their smile changing to protest, as she cried:
“Oh, papa, this is the hardest part of my punishment—to know that I made you suffer. If only I had known!”
“You brought me the only real happiness of my life. It was worth all I paid. When I saw you—the day you came home from Europe—I almost died of joy. And when I heard you give your vow to Sydney, I said: ‘My cup runneth over.’ I know now why Sylvia had to treat him so cruelly. I asked God to make her realize his worth. What foolish children we are, when we pray. I knew the sorrow of his boyhood, and how pure his heart was. Eileen, none of us knew that he had to minister to a gentle, afflicted mother, all those years ... just to fit him to be your husband.”
“Papa!” The girl’s tears wet her father’s face. “And only you could have seen it. There isn’t another man in the world who could have taken me—without ever humiliating me—and made me want to be the best woman that ever lived.”
“And you won’t ever forget that men need love?”
“They need it more than we do. Perhaps I can make up some of what I owe you—when I take care of Syd’s father ... make his home bright and happy.”
David stroked her hand, his eyes wandering to the face of Judith who stood, shaken with emotion, at the foot of the bed.
“Come to me, dear daughter. I have something to tell you, while I have my wits about me. It may be our last chance.”
The woman pressed her hand to her quivering chin, as the sobs surged up in her throat. Then she hid her face in the pillow, her cheek close to the dear face, so that David could whisper in her ear: