“What does he think of this?” and wondering about the workings of a soul that did not, could not, exist.
Presently the girl moved slightly, and said:—
“He only knew this for certain yesterday?”
“Only yesterday.”
“Ah! but he must have suspected it long ago,”—she pointed towards the statue—“when he began that.”
“I don't understand,” Fane said. “What can that marble have to do with his health or illness?”
“When we first began to love each other,” she said, “he began to work on that. It was to be his marriage gift to me, my guardian angel. He told me he would put all his soul into it, and that sometimes he fancied, if he died before me, his soul would really enter into that statue and watch over and guard me. ‘A Silent Guardian’ he has always called it. He must have known.”
“I do not think so,” Fane said. “It was impossible he should.”
The girl stood up. The tears were running over her face now. She turned towards the statue.
“And he will be cold—cold like that!” she cried in a heart-breaking voice. “His eyes will be blind and his hands nerveless, and his voice silent.”