“My sweet friend, who can judge so well as I?” continued Helen. “What am I to you that you should have done all this for me?”
“I have told you,”—again interrupted Lotte, but Helen would not let her finish.
“Let me speak, Lotte, darling,” she exclaimed; “it is all unnecessary for you to say one word; you cannot weaken the fullness of my conviction nor deter me from a purpose I have determined upon executing. I shall not tell you what that purpose is, beyond that it embraces nothing your pure nature would shrink from. I am resolved to act now. Hitherto, you have done all. I shall do my part in future; it is time. How often, Lotte dear, have I not quietly submitted to your counsel, and acted as you have wished. Henceforward for a time, at least, you must obey me. You must submit for a few days not to think of needlework, but to lay quiet and still in bed, and let me wait upon you.”
“I could not—oh, I could not!” murmured Lotte, touched by this acknowledgment.
But Helen kissed her and silenced her and would not hear her objections, and threatened to do all kind of desperate things unless she assented to her request. Lotte, alternately coaxed and menaced, obeyed, though she was restive and uncomfortable under the knowledge that their store was growing hourly less, while Helen had really no notion of the value of money or its want.
Unable to remain long in bed under such circumstances, Lotte struggled through two days; on the third, she persisted in getting up, declaring she was quite strong, and fit now to undertake anything.
The rest had certainly done her previously exhausted frame good, and Helen could not help perceiving its effects upon her face, and her manner, so she made no great objection to her rising; but that same evening, about six o’clock, she startled Lotte by appearing before her, dressed as when first they met in Hyde Park.
Lotte was dancing the infant in her arms. Helen took it abruptly from her, kissed it passionately many times, and then placed it again in Lotte’s arms.
The latter, overwhelmed with surprise, exclaimed, in a tone of the greatest astonishment—
“Where are you going, Helen? In Heaven’s name, do not be guilty of any rash or unadvised step. Oh! I should break my heart if, out of any mistaken feeling of commiseration or tenderness for me, you should come to harm!”