The whole of Lotte’s past services and exertions, and her own unconscious selfishness, suddenly flashed through Helen’s brain. She now arrived at a more clear and complete appreciation of what Lotte had really done for her, what she had sacrificed and what she had suffered.
Then came the question as to motive.
Helen rapidly retraced the events of her past acquaintance with her young companion, and endeavoured in such prospects of the future as might have presented themselves to her, to find an incentive for such tender devotion as she had evinced towards her, from first to last; but she could discover nothing which detracted from her pure womanly sympathy, her unselfish disinterestedness.
How Helen’s heart warmed to her, as she reached the only conclusion it was possible to form.
And Lotte looked so attenuated, so strengthless, so much as though she had overtaxed her powers, and was gradually sinking into the arms of death, that, as Helen gazed upon her, her eyes filled with tears, which shut her out from her sight.
Then she rose up, and moved towards her hastily; she flung her arms about her, and wept passionately upon her neck; making Lotte both surprised and alarmed.
“What have I said?” she ejaculated, quickly; “oh! nothing I hope to pain you, Helen.”
Helen drove back her tears. She raised up her head, seized Lotte’s hands, and kissed them ardently.
“I am pained, dearest Lotte,” she exclaimed, with quivering earnestness, but striving to speak collectedly, “because now I see that while you have been my constant, generous disinterested friend; faithful, self-sacrificing, and unwearied in your kind, very kind services to me, I have been altogether selfish, exacting and inconsiderate——”
“Nay, do not say so,” interposed Lotte.