‘You mustn’t talk like that, my dear. You have a great future before you, and perhaps—who knows?—I shall be able to see it from afar off. If the dead can watch over those they love, I shall still take care of you—ah, yes!—and if there’s a heaven as the preachers say, I shall meet poor Fred your father there, and we shall both look down and bless you.’
‘I have no father but you! You are all the world to me! You will not die!’
But White continued quietly, as if pursuing his own thoughts—
‘And while dear Forster lives you will not be without a friend; many a time has he lightened my load, and I wish you’d let him help you to carry yours. If you would promise me to become his wife, I should be very happy.’
‘I cannot! You know I cannot!’
As she uttered the words, he became conscious of a movement in the room, and looking round saw Forster standing at the foot of the bed.
‘Is that you, Forster?’ asked White, faintly. ‘Come here, I wish to speak to you;’ and he added when Forster had passed round and stood looking down sadly upon him.
‘You’ll be kind to Madeline, old fellow, after——’
And he turned his face on the pillow to hide his tears. Forster did not reply in words, but with tears glistening on his own cheeks laid his hand softly on the sick man’s shoulder. Presently White looked round, and, fixing his great dim eyes on Madeline’s face, whispered—
‘My dear! Will you go—only a little while? I wish to speak to Forster.’