“Good child,” she said distinctly. “Good child! Kind. Loving. True. You’ve been a comfort to me.”
“Ah, Buddy, dear!” The deep, soft tone of Grizel’s voice was more eloquent than a caress. “It’s been so easy! We’ve loved each other... If it’s possible where you are going, look after me still! I want to feel you are near. I’ll remember you always, and your dear kindness.”
Lady Griselda frowned. A look of distress wrinkled her face.
“Kind!” she repeated. “I meant to be! I wanted you to be happy—I schemed for that—but it may be, I was wrong. I don’t know, I can’t think. It’s too late now, but I meant well, child, remember that! I thought only of you.”
“Buddy,” said Grizel clearly. “All the money in the world is not worth troubling about in these few last hours. Leave it alone! I shall be happy, dear; God made me happy. Rest your old head, and don’t trouble. It’s all quite, quite right.”
Lady Griselda closed her eyes. The sands were running very low, and she had not the energy to speak. Grizel fed her with sips of brandy, but she made no attempt to call the nurse, who was sleeping in another room. She also held the theory that a human soul should be allowed to die after its own fashion, even if thereby life’s span were shortened by a few hours. Still on her knees she watched while the old woman dozed, and dozed again, waking up to brief moments of consciousness, but her mind had wandered from the present, and was back in the far away past.
“He broke my heart,” she said faintly once. “It was the money he wanted, not me; but I loved him. And there was no child—I was alone!” Suddenly her eyes flashed. “I hope,” she said clearly, “we shall never meet! I forgive him—it’s all over—but eternity is big enough... There’s room for both.” ... Another time, “Remember,” she gasped, “no black for me! Don’t suit you. Dismal stuff. Let ’em talk!” and again, with a reminiscent chuckle: “Rudest woman in London. That was me, and here I lie! Well! Well! it did me one good turn. When I was crippled they kept their distance... No fussing and sympathising. Didn’t want ’em. Only you—”
Grizel stroked her hand, and she slept again. It was an awesome thing to watch the grey face, changing moment by moment into a mask of clay. The hard, bitter-tongued woman had come to the end of her journey, and was going out into the great unknown. Life had brought her perhaps the hardest of all fates, great wealth, and little love. The girl kneeling by her side knew that she was the only person on earth who would honestly regret her loss, and the knowledge brought with it the first tear.
She sent out her whole heart in a passion of love and gratitude, as if thereby she could lighten the last struggle of life. As the shackles of earth were loosened, the spirit so soon to be freed from the fleshly prison must surely be sensitive to the ministrations of a kindred soul. Grizel poured forth the wealth of her love, and even as she gazed beheld an answering peace on the dying face. The eyes remained closed, but the fingers stirred within her own with a caressing touch.
“Good—child,” breathed the faint voice. “Good—child!”