“My poor girl!” he said softly, more than pityingly, as he drew her arm closer to his breast.
“Charley!” she sighed gently; but there were volumes in that one word; and had they been alone, she would have thrown herself upon his breast, where she felt now she might cling. Then her eyes closed, a faint hysterical sob passed her lips, and she smiled, as if from a sense of ineffable satisfaction, as she felt his strong arms supporting her—that he was bearing her towards the inner room; and then all was blank.
Ten minutes after, Laura unclosed her eyes, to find herself upon a couch, with Nelly and Charley at her side; and starting up, she rested upon one elbow. Then she fixed her eyes upon the latter, and caught at his hand.
“You will not leave me?” she gasped hoarsely.
“No!” he whispered almost tenderly. “I feared that you were unwell.” And he passed his hand across her damp brow, smoothing back the raven hair; and Laura sank back, her eyes closed and a smile upon her lip, drawing with her his hand, which she held tightly in both hers; for, saving Nelly, they were now alone.
A quarter of an hour passed in silence, and then Charley Vining said gently:
“Do you think you can bear to be moved?”
“Yes,” she said, rising eagerly and fixing her eyes upon his, “if you are with me. But,” she said, leaning towards him and whispering, “do not be angry; only tell me, to set me at rest—tell me that you will not—Max—dear Charley, you know what I mean.”
“Follow Max—your brother?” said Charley sternly; “no!”
The next minute Laura was leaning upon his arm, and they sought the carriage, Nelly taking Charley’s other arm, and whispering to him as he turned towards her with a sad smile on his lip, “I’m so sorry, Charley, and yet so glad, and I don’t know how I feel; but tell me, is it to be brother Charley?”