“Go, my friend,” Norman answered, huskily; “I shall not be alone. The nurse will be here, and Doctor Hall has promised to return before midnight.”
Then Lord Stuart spent a few solemn minutes by Mrs. de Vere’s bedside, taking, as he believed, a silent last farewell of a noble woman soon to be removed from earth, and whispering a few hopeful words to his stricken friend, he hurried away, hoping that he would be able to catch a midnight train for the West.
He went back to his hotel and explained to his sister what had happened, and he was not much surprised when she begged that he would take her with him on the quest for Thea.
“But, Edith, it may prove a fruitless journey—it may be one of that false woman’s schemes,” he said.
“I will go with you on the bare chance that it is true, for if Thea is sick she will need my care,” she replied.
“It is noble of you, Edith, to cling to that poor girl still, even when the most blighting disgrace and misery have fallen to her lot,” her brother said, watching her keenly.
“I love her all the more dearly for her unmerited misfortunes,” Lady Edith cried, impetuously. “Oh, brother, do you not think we might take her back to England with us until Norman is free to marry her again? We might comfort the poor, unhappy child.”
“We will see,” said Lord Stuart, kindly. “But if you mean to go with me, hurry and get ready, my dear. You need only take one trunk and your maid.”
CHAPTER LXVIII.
Poor Thea! Her one thought and desire, after learning the bitter truth that her husband’s first wife lived to triumph over her, was to get away as far as possible from the husband with whom she had been so wildly happy, but whom to meet again would be the bitterest misery.