Overruled, but with annoyance and aversion in every movement, Pauline took madame's chair.
"I cannot stay—I mean—I cannot stay long. Oh—Henry, why have you brought me here? I can do you no good, and the sight of you will do me harm, it always does!"
This outburst was more natural to her stormy temperament than her previous rigidity; her hands clasped and unclasped, while the frown between her eyes, almost the shape of a barred gate, broke up as a few wild tears fell upon her lap. Clairville, for his part, though a dying man, showed resolution and calm obstinacy.
"You ask that question—and yet you profess to know why I sent for you? If you do not come to me of your goodwill, I must send for you, that is clear. You are hearing nothing of me, for I have been too long a dead man to the world, but I continue to hear much of you. This marriage—is it true?"
"I was coming to you," she said hastily, and with evasion; "I had made arrangements so that when I leave Canada for good I shall have nothing to reproach myself for."
"I ask—and see that you answer—you are going to be married?"
With an uneasy glance at the priest, Miss Clairville murmured: "Yes". Then louder, as if in an effort to assert herself: "It is to Mr. Hawtree, an old friend, your friend. There is nothing new or surprising, nothing peculiar in that. Only what is new is this—that he will not have to work, that he has come into some money, that we can go away and live in other places; live indeed how or where we like. Henry—think what that will do for me! Think how it will change all my life and how at last I shall realize my dreams, if not fulfil my ambitions! And then I may be able to help you too, perhaps—and—and Angeel. That is—I am not sure of this, but I shall try and do so."
Clairville seemed to be endeavouring to look at his sister more closely.
"I cannot hear you very well. Will you approach the bed, Pauline? I am feeble, you see—I am——" Terrible coughing now interrupted him, and he called upon the doctor.
"Renaud!" he gasped. "Where is Renaud?"