Kate threw her arms closer round him.
“Frank! husband! look at me! Have I been a good wife to you? Have I ever once murmured? Have I tried hard to make your life happy? Frank, since we have been married I never asked you any great favour. I ask it now, Frank, for this wretched man—not for his sake, but for mine—for the sake of your little wife, who so loves you. Oh, Frank, Frank,” and Kate’s eyes closed, and had not Frank’s right arm closed round her, she would have fallen.
Frank’s face had softened as she spoke, and as the little figure drooped more heavily upon him, his fingers unclosed from their vice-like hold of Fred Bingham. Then, without a word, without any apparent knowledge of the man he had released, he raised his wife and carried her into the house.
Two days after this, Captain Bradshaw was sitting alone with his grandson, when, after a pause, the invalid said—
“I want you to give me some money, grandfather—something I can do as I like with.”
“God bless my soul, my boy,” Captain Bradshaw said, hastily, “why did you not ask before? How much do you want?”
“Oh, I want a great deal, grandfather. When I die I want to know that Carry is provided for; she was so kind to me in the old days. She would not take money from you,—she would not take it from me—but when I am dead, if I leave it to her, she would, I think, take it. It would make me very happy, grandfather.”
“Yes, yes, my boy,” the old man said, wiping his eyes hastily, “I will transfer an amount to your name, and then you can do with it what you like. I will write up to-day to my broker to sell out. How much shall I say, James?—£5000, and to invest it in stock in your name. Will that do?”
A silent pressure of the hand was the answer.
“I do not think I shall live to be of age, grandfather, but you will not dispute my will,” and he smiled contentedly.