She was seated in the darkening room, holding tightly by the old man’s hand, as a frightened child might in dread of punishment. As the hours had passed she had been starting at every sound, trembling as the hollow rumbling of cab-wheels came along the street, and when by chance a carriage stopped at the hotel her aspect was pitiable.
“I cannot help it,” she whispered. “All through these terrible troubles I seem to have been strong, while now I am so weak and unstrung—uncle, I shall never be myself again.”
“Yes, and stronger than ever. Come, little woman, how often have you heard or read of people suffering from nervous reaction and—thank God!” he muttered, as he saw the door softly open behind his niece’s chair, and his brother stand in the doorway.
“I did not catch what you said, dear,” said Louise feebly, as she lay back with her eyes closed.
Uncle Luke gave his brother a meaning look, and laid his niece’s hand back upon her knees.
“No; it’s very hard to make one’s self heard in this noisy place. I was only saying, my dear, that your nerves have been terribly upset, and that you are suffering from the shock. You feel now afraid to meet your father lest he should reproach you, and you can only think of him as being bitter and angry against you for going away, as you did; but when he thoroughly grasps the situation, and how you acted as you did to save your brother from arrest, and all as it were in the wild excitement of that time, and under pressure—”
“Don’t leave me, uncle.”
“No, no, my dear. Only going to walk up and down,” said the old man as he left his chair. “When he grasps all this, and your dread of Harry’s arrest, and that it was all nonsense—there, lie back still, it is more restful so. That’s better,” he said, kissing her, and drawing away. “When, I say, he fully knows that it was all nonsense due to confounded Aunt Margaret and her noble Frenchmen, and that instead of an elopement with some scoundrel, you were only performing a sisterly duty, he’ll take you in his arms—”
Uncle Luke was on the far side of the room now, and in obedience to his signs, and trembling violently, George Vine had gone slowly towards the vacated seat.
“You think he will, uncle, and forgive me?” she faltered, as she lay back still with her eyes closed.