“Oh, never Susan Susan last of all.”
“Why last?”
“Because you, like her best, and because she would be so sorry. Susan is so good that it hurts her when people do wrong. I couldn’t bear Susan to think badly of me, and neither would you Susan shall never know.”
Then for the first time the tears started to Norah’s eyes.
“Oh, Dreda, you are generous,” she sighed; “you know how to forgive.” Then, with a sudden flash of intuition, “Susan will write books. She will be great; but you, Dreda, you will live! You will be better than famous—you will be loved!”
When Mrs Saxon entered the room a few minutes later her quick eyes realised at once the mental exhaustion of her two patients, and she escorted her daughter back to her room and tucked her up in bed.
Dreda’s fair head rested on the pillow; but her eyes followed her mother’s movements about the room with a wistful expression whose appeal could not be denied. Mrs Saxon asked no questions, but with true mother insight she divined the need at the girl’s heart, and hastened to fill it.
“Try to sleep, my little girl,” she said fondly. “Try to rest. Take care of yourself for my sake. You are more precious to me than ever, since Rowena became engaged. You don’t know how many hundreds of times in the last few weeks I have comforted myself by thinking, ‘I have Dreda! Thank God for Dreda! When Rowena goes I shall not be lonely. I shall have my other dear big girl.’”
Dreda’s face glowed. The dull eyes shone with happiness and expectation.
“Mother,” she cried ardently, “I’ll never leave you! I’ll spend my whole life helping you and father. I’ll never, never leave you for the sake of a horrid, strange man.”