“It was very kind in you, Clubs,” he said at last, “to save my life at the risk of your own.”
“You are mistaken,” returned Oliver; “it was for Mildred I risked my life, far more than for you.”
“For Mildred, Clubs,—for Mildred!” and all over Lawrence Thornton’s handsome face there broke a look of perplexity and delight, for Oliver’s words implied a something to believe which would be happiness indeed.
“I can’t tell you now,” said Oliver, “I am too faint and weak. Come to me before you go and I will explain; but first, Lawrence Thornton, answer me truly, as you hope for heaven, do you love Mildred Howell?”
“Love Mildred Howell,—love Mildred Howell!” Lawrence repeated, in amazement. “Yes, Clubs, as I hope for heaven, I love her better than my life, but she isn’t for me, she loves somebody else,” and he hurried down the stairs, never dreaming that the other was himself, for had it been, she would not have deserted him the previous day, when he was so near to death. “No, Oliver is deceived,” he said, and he walked slowly back to Beechwood, thinking how bright the future would look to him could he but possess sweet Mildred Howell’s love. “I never receive any help, from Lilian,” he unconsciously said aloud. “She lies like a weight upon my faculties, while Mildred has the most charming way of rubbing up one’s ideas. Mildred is splendid,” and his foot touched the lower step of the back piazza just as the Judge’s voice chimed in:
“I’m glad you think so. That’s what I’ve been trying to get at this whole day, so sit down here, Thornton, and we’ll have a confidential chat. The girls are off riding, and there’s no one to disturb us.”
Lawrence took the offered seat, and the Judge continued:
“I don’t know how to commence it, seeing there’s no head nor tail, and I shall make an awful bungle, I presume, but what I want to say is this: You’ve got the wool pulled over your eyes good. I ain’t blind, nor deaf either, if one of my ears is shut up tight as a drum. I heard her soft-soaping you last night, making you think nobody did anything but her. It’s Lilian, I mean,” he continued, as he saw the mystified expression on Lawrence’s face. “Now, honest, didn’t she make you believe that she did about the whole; that is, did what women would naturally do in such a case?”
Lawrence had received some such impression and as he had no reason for thinking Lilian would purposely deceive him, he roused up at once in her defense.
“Everybody was kind, I presume,” he said, “but I must say that for a little, nervous creature as she is, Lilian acted nobly, standing fearlessly by until the worst was over, and then, when all the rest was gone, who was it sat watching me, but Lilian?”