"So Mrs. Gaunt liked the things?"
"Indeed, yes, sir. She said how she would like to use them. I can show you the exact pieces she picked out, sir."
"Come along," said Gaunt impetuously. Here was a glorious idea. Here was something to fill in blank days of waiting! Virgie should find her own room at least habitable; incomplete, of course, and waiting for her touch, but not impossible as at present. It would welcome her, when she came back—when she came back!
Would she come?
CHAPTER XX
A CASE FOR INTERPOSITION?
"Why, here you have the awfulest of crimes
For nothing! Hell broke loose on a butterfly!
Yet here is the monster! Why, he's a mere man—
Born, bred and brought up in the usual way."
—R. Browning.
It was six o'clock in the evening. Virginia stepped from the door of the Nursing Home out into Queen Anne Street with a radiant face.
She left Pansy smiling, content, in the hands of people who were not merely experts, but kind and loving. The daily improvement grew more marked. Dr. Danby that day had spoken more encouragingly than ever before. The delight of it, the fascination of watching colour steal back to the cheeks, and light to the eyes; while the awful look of pain vanished from the lines of the mouth, leaving it a child's mouth once more—this was enfolding the elder sister in a sweetness which it seemed no dark future had power to impair. Gaunt was far from her mind; she was living in the present moment—living within the walls of the room that contained Pansy.