Evangeline took her hand, and together they entered the darkened chamber where the wreck of the proud woman lay in hopeless imbecility.
Helen grew pale as ashes as she entered the room. Her heart throbbed painfully. She found herself face to face with old Mrs. Truebody; and, as the good old creature started and wrung her hands, she felt her breath come and go in short hysteric gasps.
With a strong effort she drew the curtain aside and beheld the white, pinched, and drawn features of her mother screwed up into a smile—such a smile! Anything more terribly vacant it is impossible to conceive. Her eyes, divested of all expression, roamed to and fro without any apparent object. She gibbered, and babbled, and clutched at the bedclothes with her fingers. Sometimes she nodded her head, and then a short, screeching laugh would be heard.
Helen, with a burst of anguish, fell upon her knees, and said, in accents of acute mental suffering—
“Mother! mother! look upon me—speak to me—I am Helen, your penitent child, come back to strive to compensate you for the pangs and shame I have occasioned you. Mother! for mercy sake recognise me! See, I am Helen—she of whom you were so proud, and who so crushed all the hopes you raised. Look at me; speak to me; if only to spurn me; but speak to me, mother—in the name of Heaven’s holy charity, speak to me!”
Mrs. Grahame at the sound of her voice, turned her head, but she only laughed vacantly, and nodded, and screeched again.
Helen wept frantically. She took her mother’s hand and kissed it wildly. She bent over her and caressed her in the throes of the deepest emotion, but without eliciting one single token of recognition.
Mrs. Truebody at length came forward and took Helen by the arm and waist—
“I pray you to retire, my dear young lady,” she said, speaking with firmness. “You are unintentionally only doing ill. Your unhappy mother is beyond all power of recognition. There is only one hope of a restoration of her senses, and that will be immediately preceding the moment when Heaven pleases to call her hence. Now you are disturbing and making her feverish, because she cannot understand your actions or comprehend your grief. You are injuring your own health, when its preservation is needful, and you are afflicting your dear young sister beyond her power to endure it. Pray, pray exert your self-command. I do assure you, Mi—madam, that your best fortitude and courage are needed now.”
With one agonised look at the expressionless face of her mother, Helen turned to depart. She caught Evangeline in her arms and kissed her tear-bedewed cheeks with fervent earnestness, and then, with her arm folded around her waist, she quitted the chamber. Not a word or look at Mrs. Truebody. She could not trust herself to say a word to her now. She had not forgotten her. She had prepared a suitable reward for her; but at this moment the sight of her face raised too many unhappy recollections for her to be able even to speak to her.