“Fanny, oh Fanny! I am so glad you have come,” she said, trying to rise and opening and shutting her fingers rapidly. Then exerting all her strength she threw her arms around Fanny’s neck and burst into tears while her father tried to quiet her. “Don’t stop me,” she said. “I must cry or my heart will burst, and my head, too,—it aches so hard. Fanny, Fanny! You don’t know all your coming to me means. Now put me back on my pillow and sit where I can see you without turning my eyes. I am tired all over.”
Her arms fell helpless on the bed and she scarcely seemed to breathe.
“I don’t understand it,” Fanny said in a low tone to Mr. Hilton.
Inez heard her and before her father could reply she whispered, “Don’t try to understand, or speak of it. Just sit by me.”
All day Fanny sat by her, knowing that whenever Inez’s eyes were open, they were fixed on her with a look which began to make her uncomfortable.
“What is it, Inez? Is there something you want to tell me?” she asked at last.
Inez did not answer at once, but her hand moved slowly towards Fanny’s, which chanced to be lying on the bed near her. For a time she regarded it intently, evidently contrasting its whiteness and softness with her own larger brown hands.
“We are not much alike, but you love me and are not ashamed of me,” she said.
“Ashamed of you!” Fanny repeated. “Why should I be?”
“And you will stay with me? It can’t be long,” Inez continued.