Hilda shook her head and declined to look. "Frith wasn't Jim," said she.
"And he wasn't my husband, either. You feel Frith's death and I feel Jim's. We each have our own sorrow, and time alone will help us to forget the dear departed."
"Leah"--Hilda sobbed more violently than ever--"I shall never--never forget. Never--never--never--never!"
"I didn't mean forget exactly," murmured Leah, who had been more candid than she intended; "but time will soothe us, and we shall all meet on a happier shore."
"I hope so--I hope so;" the Marchioness clasped her hands devoutly and raised her eyes. "I can see our three dear ones meeting now."
"I wish I could," said Lady Jim, truthfully, and she felt that the meeting of the Kaimes family in heaven would be a sight worth witnessing. Of course Jim was alive, but even if he were dead, she did not think that Hilda's vision could possibly become fact. The Duke, who had turned angel in his old age, and Frith, who was always pious, had a chance certainly; but Jim, when his turn came, would probably not be of the party.
However, the business of consoling a sore heart had to be attended to, and Leah dosed Hilda with all the platitudes which the Marchioness had used during a similar and earlier event. And Lady Jim was so admirable an actress that she really deceived herself into thinking that her stage-play was real life. Her eloquence, her attentions, her hoverings like a guardian angel over Hilda, her bringing in the children--that was a master-stroke--and her general zeal in drying a mourner's tears, were truly wonderful. By the time she left the Marchioness, sitting up with "his children" on her lap, soothed and comforted, and grateful for Leah's kindness, poor Lady Jim felt quite exhausted.
"I do hope there will be a decent dinner," she soliloquised, in the seclusion of her own room. "I can't stand much more of this without food."
Through the troubles of death and the joys of birth, the worry of weak minds and the scheming of strong ones, ever moves the solid business of life connected with eating and sleeping. Therefore the Firmingham cook, being a hired servant, was sufficiently master of his emotions to send up a really tempting repast. The new Duke and the disinherited Duchess partook of this meal in a small room without attendance. Wishing to talk family matters, they did not desire eavesdropping footmen. Besides, Hilda remained in her own apartment, nourishing her emotions with red lavender, and calling at intervals for "Bunny" to come back. Lady Jim paid several visits to the poor little soul during the evening, and each time was successful in cheering her up; but it was trying work, as again and again she had to begin from the beginning. No wonder she looked harassed when seated opposite to her host. Lionel thanked her gratefully, and with reason, for Hilda had eulogised Leah and her work of mercy.
"I knew you would prove yourself a true woman," said he, pouring her out a glass of champagne.