“And as you say,” continued the doctor, “whether he lives or dies, it will be a comfort to him to marry his divorced wife over again, so I will go with you to get the license and the preacher.”
So, together with Frederick Foster, they went to arrange the necessary details, and in their absence there occurred that scene by the death-bed of Rachel Dane that was to make such a change in the destinies of Arthur and Cinthia, the sorely tried lovers.
When they returned, several hours later, with the minister, Mrs. Flint was informed of what was about to occur, and begged her new-found nephew to let her have the services of the man of God first for a dying sinner.
“Poor Rachel Dane is going fast, and she is afraid to die, poor soul! We must try to hold a light for her feet, as she goes groping down into the dark valley,” she said, pitifully.
“Has her life been so wicked?” he asked, wonderingly; and the old lady answered:
“She has lived without God, and her sins are many. She made a most interesting confession awhile ago, and I would like for you to go and hear it, dear nephew, from Madame Ray, while the minister is engaged with Rachel.”
Mrs. Flint spoke with such a glad and cheerful smile, that he was quite puzzled.
He was sorry for the dying woman, but not much interested in her sins and confessions. His thoughts were hovering around Cinthia.
She had been carried unconscious from Mr. Dawn’s room, and only revived to go into such hysterical spasms that they almost feared for her life. It was thought best to quiet her by strong opiates, and she had been sleeping heavily now for hours.
Poor Cinthia! They had thought the truth would not shock her now, because she was betrothed to another; but they had been terribly mistaken. The hopeless love that had tortured her heart with secret pain threatened to end in death or madness, now that they had told her that Arthur was her brother.