At last Barney found his voice. “Does she suspect anything?” he asked hoarsely.
“I think she must, but she has said nothing. She has been eager all summer to get back to her home—to you—to those she loved. She will rejoice to see you.”
Suddenly Barney dropped his face into his hands with a low, long moan. Jack looked out upon the fleeting landscape dimmed by the tears he dared not wipe away. A long silence followed while, drop by drop, Barney drank his cup to the bitter dregs.
“We try to think of the bright side,” at length said Lady Ruthven gently.
Barney lifted his face from his hands, looked at her in dumb misery.
“There is the bright side,” she continued, “the side of the immortal hope. We like to think of the better country. That is our real home. There, only, are our treasures safe.” She was giving him time to get hold of himself after the first deadly stab. But Barney made no reply except to gravely bow. “It is, indeed, a better country,” she added softly as if to herself, “the only place we immortals can call home.” Then she rose. “Come, Jack,” she said, “I think Dr. Boyle would like to be alone.” Before she turned away to another section of the carriage, she offered him her hand with a grave, pitying smile.
Barney bowed reverently over her hand. “I am grateful to you,” he said brokenly, “believe me.” His face was contorted with the agony that filled his soul. A quick rush of tears rendered her speechless and in silence they turned away from him, and for the long hour that followed they left him with his grief.
When they came back they found him with face grave and steady, carrying the air of one who has fought his fight and has not been altogether beaten. And with that same steady face he reached the great door of Ruthven Hall.
“Jack, you will take Dr. Boyle to his room,” said Lady Ruthven; “I shall see Iola and send for him.” But just then her daughter came down the stairs. “Mamma,” she said in a low, quick tone, “she wants him at once.”
“Yes, dear, I know,” replied her mother, “but it will be better that I—”