“Which is quite natural,” answered Edith smiling, “as I have not said who; and as I know you will never guess I may as well tell you. It is Imelda Ellwood; the young lady Brother Wilbur has so often told us about.”
“O! Imelda Ellwood!” exclaimed Hilda, with a glad little cry, her face brightening with a sudden joy. “I am so glad,” and impulsively extending both hands she kissed her in greeting.
Just then a smothered sound was heard from the bed. With her well hand the wounded girl grasped the cloth from her head and dashed it across the room.
“Who said Imelda? Where is she? I know of but one Imelda, and she is far-away. Ha! ha!” laughing wildly.
“I wonder what Imelda would say? my beautiful and good sister Imelda, if she could see me tonight. Would she soil her pure hands to wash mine? I thought I heard someone speak her name. Say, do you know her?”—and her glance travels unsteadily from face to face. As her eyes rested upon the white face of Imelda they settled there in a stony, set manner. Her lips twitched convulsively as she slowly raised herself upon her well arm. With a quick movement Imelda now cast aside the hat that she still wore. The next instant she had caught the weakened but fever-flushed form in her arms.
“Cora!” She spoke the name calmly, and in a tone of voice tender and gentle, as if the meeting and finding of the wayward sister here was a matter of course. Laying her cool hand upon the heated brow and gently brushing the tangled hair therefrom.
“Cora, be calm and quiet or you will harm yourself. Come, lie down and go to sleep.” From the manner in which these words were spoken one would scarce have thought that anything unusual had happened. The influence of both words and manner was instantly felt by the suffering girl. Obediently she permitted herself to be laid back upon the pillows. Her eyes closed. Her hand went up to her head; then to her injured arm, thus indicating where the pain was that tortured her. Hilda had by this time replaced the cold cloths. Low moans escaped the lips of the patient and soon two large tear drops stole from beneath the closed eyelids. Imelda gently brushed them away, now and then murmuring a caressing word so low that only the prostrate girl could hear. Her hand passed back and forth across the fevered brow. The magnetic touch seemed to do her good. Gradually the sufferer became more quiet, and when the parched lips asked for water it was Imelda’s hand that passed the cooling drink. In a little while the breathing became more regular, and presently Cora was asleep.
In all this time there had not been spoken one word of explanation. Whatever of curiosity the sisters may have felt none was expressed. Quietly they waited until their guest should of her own accord explain what seemed so strange. When Imelda felt certain that her sister was fast asleep she gently withdrew her hands and raising her eyes to those of Edith she indicated that she wished to speak to her. Not wishing to make the least sound in the sick room the two went out together, leaving Hilda once more to watch with loving care at the bedside.
As soon as the door was closed upon their retreating figures Imelda turned and looked Edith Wallace full in the face. It was an ordeal she felt called upon to pass through, and though a severe one she resolved to meet it bravely.
“Do you understand what that girl is to me?” pointing to the door of the room wherein the sick girl lay.