Gradually Flora revealed the want under which she had so long suffered, and was not long in putting Lotte into possession of the fact that she looked upon her in the light of a very dear, dear friend.
Lotte knew Hal Vivian. Ah! how that smoothed the path to many a revelation! and she listened with such deep attention and sympathy to Flora’s confession—-though she had not sought it—that, in the fulness of her heart at finding at last a comforter and a counsellor in one of her own sex and of her own age—of her own cast of thought and feeling—Flora kept back nothing; and ere Lotte that night for the first time stood in the sick chamber of old Wilton, she was in full possession of all that Flora had to reveal.
It was not without a trembling hesitation, a nervous sense that she was in a false position, that Lotte entered Mr. Wilton’s chamber, but she felt, nevertheless, that she was borne along by the stream of circumstances, and she could not resist the force of the current. The sight of the invalid, however—his moaning, ravings, and feeble motions—at once dissipated all her personal feelings, and she applied herself to the duties she had undertaken with a promptness and tact which showed how much a willing spirit can supply to compensate for a want of knowledge. Thoughtfully suggestive, tenderly considerate, unwearied in application to her task, she elicited the warmest encomiums from the physician, who, at the end of the week, told her, in the presence of Mark and Nathan Gomer, that Mr. Wilton, if his life was spared, would be as much indebted for his recovery to her assiduous care and faithful performance of instructions as he would be to his own skill.
Mark, who had preserved towards her a very quiet and respectful demeanour, and never breathed a word about his love in her ear, regarded her now with grateful and affectionate glances; while Nathan Gomer, with shining face, grinned and rubbed his hands delightedly.
So, for a short time, matters went on. Flora, who shared, too, no mean portion of Lotte’s attention, fast recovered strength, and felt more placid and calm than she had been since the change in her circumstances had taken place.
Harry Vivian was not at Harleydale; he had gone to the scene of Colonel Mires’ fatal accident to attend, with Nathan Gomer’s agent, a coroner’s inquest. He had previously attended a preliminary examination of Mr. Chewkle before a magistrate, on which occasion the extremely chapfallen criminal was remanded for the recovery of Mr. Wilton, who, it was stated at the time, would soon be sufficiently well to give evidence. But Mr. Wilton at first grew rapidly worse instead of better, and therefore Mr. Chewkle was again remanded for a somewhat longer term than before.
The return of Mr. Wilton’s reason found him terribly enfeebled; but the danger having been surmounted, the recovery of strength was but a question of time. And now commenced the real difficulty Lotte had to encounter.
Mr. Wilton, as soon as he began to recognise anything, noticed Lotte’s presence; and, on making a remark respecting it, was informed by the physician that it was a young lady who had kindly undertaken to tend him with that earnest care which could not be obtained, save in exceptional instances, from a hired nurse, and he spoke in warm and praiseful terms of the service she had rendered.
Wilton fancied he had seen her face somewhere, but could not remember where; it was a passing thought, and he did not ask her name, assuming that it was some new-formed friend of Flora’s, residing in their neighbourhood; in truth, he was glad to think so, and satisfied himself with the supposition, for he felt too ill to pursue inquiries.
He quickly felt the value of Lotte’s presence and her services; there were so many little nameless attentions, such a close regard for his comfort and immunity from pain, such a constant anticipation of his wishes and his wants, that at length he could scarcely bear her from his sight.