“My rule is,” Mr. Wadsworth arose and stood behind his chair, “to judge people by themselves and not by myself.”
“Oh, the heartaches that would save,” thought Tessa. At the hour when she was walking slowly towards Felix, her black dress brushing the grass, her eyes upon the harvested fields lying warm in the mellow sunlight, and on her lips the sorrowful wonder, he was sitting alone in the summer-house, his head dropped within his hands. He was wondering, too, as all his being leaped forward at the thought of her coming, and battling with the strong love that was too strong for his feeble strength.
When her hand unlatched the gate, he was not in the summer-house; she walked up the long path, and around to the latticed porch where Laura liked to sew or read in the afternoons; there was no one there; the work-basket had been pushed over, cotton and thimble had rolled to the edge of the floor, the white work had been thrown over a chair, she stood a moment in the oppressive silence, trembling and half leaning against a post; the tall clock in the hall ticked loudly and evenly: forever—never, never—forever! Her heart quickened, every thing grew dark like that night in the lecture-room, she was possessed with a terror that swept away breath and motion. A groan, then another and another, interrupted the never—forever, of the clock, then a step on the oil-cloth of the hall, and she dimly discerned Laura’s frightened face, and heard as if afar off her surprised voice: “Why, Tessa! O, Tessa, I am so glad!”
The frightened face was held up to be kissed and arms were clinging around her.
“I’m always just as frightened every time—he was in the summer-house and father found him—he can speak now—it doesn’t last very long.”
“I will not stay, he needs you.”
“Not now, no one can help him; father is with him. If this keeps on Dr. Greyson says that some day he will have to be undressed and dressed just like an infant. He has been nervous all day, as if he were watching for something. O, Tessa, I want to die, I want him to die, I can’t bear it any longer.”
Tessa’s only reply was her fast dropping tears.
“If he only had a mother,” said Laura; “I want him to have a mother now that he can never have a wife! If he only had been married, his wife would have clung to him, and loved him, and taken care of him. Don’t you think that God might have waited to bring this upon him until he was married?”
“Oh, no, no, no!” shivered Tessa; “we do not know the best times for trouble to come. I shall always believe that after this.”