“I have imagined and feel rewarded by the thanks your generous heart and kind nature would prompt you to render me for what I have endeavoured to accomplish in my office of nurse. I have imagined those of the other members of your family, and so am amply repaid. You and they owe me nothing on that account; yet, if I might claim a favour quite to repay all obligation, it would be to ask of you all to forget me—or if you may not be able to remove all traces of her whose social grade renders her of little worth in the eyes of those in your position, from lingering in your memory, at least act as if I were no more remembered. Do not seek me, do not write to me more—”
Wilton uttered an ejaculation of wonder. Flora, with an unsteady voice, proceeded—
“I beg also to be spared from giving explanations, for what must seem strange conduct in the eyes of your parent, yourself—perhaps of others, but I trust you will rest content by the acknowledgment that I am weaker in spirit than I believed myself to le. That seeing hopes shown to be illusions and dreams dissipated by hard—perhaps cold facts, I am desirous of not having anything in future presented to my eyes to raise up recollections of my poor folly, but would pray to be permitted to pass my future life with resignation and in graceful obscurity. You may know all, or you may know nothing; in either case, I earnestly implore you to grant my request. And so, dear, dear Miss Wilton, unequal to the agony of parting with you personally, take now from me therefore, through the medium of this note, my farewell, and for ever. May the Almighty bless you, and those nearest and dearest to you—-”
“Ahem!” coughed a voice loudly preventing, by the interruption, Flora from adding the name appended to the note.
Old Wilton, whose eyes were riveted on Flora, turned sharply to the spot whence the sound proceeded, as did Mark and Flora. They beheld Nathan Gomer standing before them. He blew his nose almost fiercely, and we are not sure that his eyelids were not filled with water. He cleared his voice, which betrayed symptoms of huskiness, and muttering first something about “a plaguy cold,” he addressed Flora.
“I am sorry, Miss Wilton,” he said, “to interrupt you, or to intrude unannounced upon private family matters, but I have some very important business, which cannot be delayed, to transact with your good father, whom I congratulate upon being down here in his library once more. With the permission of yourself and your brother, I will proceed to my work at once.”
Both Flora and Mark were glad of the opportunity of retiring from the library, to confer together upon Lotte’s remarkable proceeding.
Flora was utterly overwhelmed with surprise at what had happened. Mark was not. He began to understand Lotte’s character better. Never did he honour her more highly, or love her more dearly than when he heard the contents of that letter, which he not only intended to read, but having obtained possession of, to keep.
When Mark and Flora had departed, old Wilton motioned to Nathan Gomer to be seated; all the time in a state of mystification and wonder at the behaviour of his pretty, kind, little nurse. There was something to unravel, he was sure of that. And, after all, who really was she, and why had she departed from his house in a manner so extraordinary?
“I say I hope you are satisfied now!” exclaimed Nathan Gomer, loudly repeating some words he had previously uttered. He had been talking for some little time, and Wilton had not heard a word.