“Then it was very cruel of you, ma’am,” said the old man plaintively. “I thought—I thought—”
Crampton said no more, but he walked to the window with his face buried in his great yellow silk handkerchief, blowing his nose with a continuity and force which became at last so unbearable that Mrs Van Heldre went out into the hall.
She went back soon into the dining-room, where Crampton was waiting anxiously.
“He looked at me when I was in the room with my darling child, Mr Crampton, and his lips parted, and he spoke to me, and I was obliged to come away for fear I should do him harm.”
“Come away, ma’am! and at a time like that!” said Crampton, angrily.
Mrs Van Heldre drew herself up with dignity.
“My child signed to me to go,” she said quietly; and then with her eyes brimming over with tears, “Do you think I would not have given the world to stay?”
At that moment Madelaine came quickly and softly into the room.
“He is sleeping,” she whispered excitedly; “he looked at me and smiled, and then his eyes closed and he seemed to go into a calm sleep, not that terrible stupor, but sleep. Mother, come and see—it must be sleep.”
Old Crampton was left alone to begin pacing the room excitedly for a few minutes, when Madelaine came down once more.