He alighted and grasped Roger by the hand. “Hello, old chap,” he said heartily. “I’m glad to see you out, and more like your old self than when I went away. How are the eyes progressing?” To Victoria he merely raised his hat, who acknowledged his salutation by a silent bow.
“Hello, yourself,” cried Roger, taking his arm from Victoria’s. “I’m right glad to see you back again, Andrew. My eyes are doing fine, thank you. I think it nonsense to keep all this fol-de-rol around them. I’m sure they would get well much quicker without the bandage. I fancied I could see a ray of light this morning, as Richard dressed them.”
Andrew started, and glanced toward Victoria, but she stood a little apart, with her eyes on the ground, and as he slipped his horse’s bridle over one arm, he offered the other to Roger, saying: “Come, brother, let me perform the pleasant duty of guiding you, although I may not be so apt as your fair companion. I hope it will not be long now that any one shall have to be eyes for you.” While in his heart he was saying: “Can it be possible that the doctor was wrong in saying that his eyesight was totally destroyed? Doctors make mistakes sometimes, as well as other people. Well, if such be the case my goose will be cooked; I can see that with half an eye. Victoria would never look at me twice, after gazing into the laughing eyes of Roger, for he is far superior to me, and I know it. Well, may the best fellow win. I can hold my own with a man without eyes, but, ah yes, there is a but in every case, I reckon, and if Roger regains the sight of those melting orbs, good-bye, Andrew Willing, and exaunt from the scene.”
He followed his mother from the dining-room after their evening meal, and when they were alone, he said: “Is there any hope of Roger regaining his sight?”
“None whatever, Andrew.”
“But he told me he fancied he could see a ray of light this morning, when his attendant was dressing his eyes.”
Mrs. Willing began to weep. “Poor boy, he fancies that every day; perhaps he can distinguish light from darkness, but what is that? I had a letter from Dr. Kohler last night. He is coming—as he promised to do—when it is time to remove the bandage. Then he will break the news to Roger. It is better that he should hear it from a stranger.”
Andrew went out from his mother’s presence with almost rejoicing in his heart. He knew he ought to mourn with her at this affliction which had come upon his twin brother, but instead, he felt a wicked satisfaction in knowing that Roger would be shorn of his greatest strength as long as he lived. The care of the plantation, all money matters which had once been Roger’s prerogative, would now revert to the younger brother; younger by one short hour, but who had been made to feel all his life, that Roger was his superior in everything, and now,—now that a new love had sprung up in his heart, and for a moment, a fierce jealousy as well, he knew that if Roger by any chance should regain his eyesight, he should hate him with bitterer hatred than ever Cain displayed toward his brother. All else he might relinquish in Roger’s favor, but Victoria never.
For several days he watched the pair with Argus eyes. Not a motion made by either escaped him. Victoria was soon conscious of his espionage, and became guarded in her actions, never betraying by word or look the deep interest she felt in Roger, so that Andrew finally concluded, that Roger was fast falling in love with Victoria, but that she cared nothing for the blind man, nor would she ever. He soon tried his power over Victoria, and to his delight found it as strong as ever. One day he was sitting in the little rustic summer-house, when he saw her going down the avenue toward the lodge gates. He never took his eyes off of her figure, but slowly put out both hands toward her. Presently she turned, and came rapidly back directing her steps to where he was sitting. There were two doors to the summer-house, and as she approached, he quietly slipped out behind an acacia bush, taking care not to turn his back to her, keeping his eyes fixed steadily upon her. She entered by the opposite door and sat down, with a vacant expression in her eyes, languidly leaning her head against the lattice work. A few seconds passed, and Andrew stole out from behind the bush, and seated himself beside her, taking her passive hand in his, and patting it gently.
“Are you happy, Victoria,” he whispered.