He did not move, he did not speak one word to stay her tears, for he knew that they were like the refreshing rain upon the parched and sun-baked earth, and she would be lighter of heart and freer from pain for their flow.
But who shall describe the feelings of his own tried heart as he knelt there with that golden head resting so near it, and from which, for her sake, he had resolved to crush relentlessly every hope for the future?
CHAPTER XXXVI
A NEW CHARACTER
From that day Paul Tressalia put every thought of self aside, and devoted himself in delicate, tireless efforts to interest and amuse the frail girl who had such entire confidence and faith in him.
His own heart would have prompted him to go away from all sight and sound of her, but he had promised that he would be her “steadfast friend.” There was no particular necessity of his returning to England at present, and, if he could do this unhappy girl any good, he resolved to stay and comfort her until she should need him no longer.
Little by little he drew her away from her own sad thoughts—at least during the day; he could not, of course, know how she spent her nights, whether in refreshing sleep or in sad and morbid brooding.
He took her on long, delightful drives to places where, with a dainty little lunch and a tempting book, they would spend a few quiet hours, and then return, just weary enough to make a rest in a comfortable corner of the broad piazza the most enjoyable thing in the world, while he talked of a hundred entertaining things in the twilight.
By and by he ventured to invite two or three entertaining people to go with them, and such charming little picnics and excursions as they made! They were quiet but cultivated people, and deeply interested in the fading girl, and they exerted themselves in an unobtrusive way to minister to her amusement.
Almost unconsciously Editha was beguiled from her melancholy; little by little the look of tense agony faded from her face; her eyes lost their heavy, despairing look; something of animation and interest replaced her listless, preoccupied manner, and an occasional smile—albeit it was a mournful one—parted her sweet lips, which gradually began to regain something of their original color.
Mr. Tressalia was very wise in all his maneuvers; everything he did was done without any apparent effort, everything moved along smoothly and naturally, and, if any one joined the party, it was brought about so quietly as to seem almost a matter of course.