“If ever a woman’s love can save a soul from Hell, she has saved him,” said the Doctor in a choking voice, kneeling reverently by the couch, oblivious of the boy who stared at the face, so quiet and lovely in death.
Then realisation came to him, with quick intuition. The Doctor’s attitude and his bowed head showed the truth more than spoken word, and in a passion of grief, he flung himself beside her.
“Mother! Mother! Don’t leave me, say something—only speak! Don’t go without a word!”
The sound brought their old servant into the room, and she and the Doctor gently led the weeping boy away.
It was only after the last sad ceremony had been carried out, and Michael and all the Archangels had been invoked to bear this pure soul to the feet of God, in the beautiful liturgy of the Catholic service, that the two broken hearted mourners came back to the villa, now hateful to both. In time it would acquire a memory like a shrine, but the loss was too near, too sudden, and it was haunted with the dear ghost, which brought a torture of longing. Halley saw this, and realised that to a young boy change was essential. For himself, he would have lingered on, dreaming of her, and hoping that in some twilight evening, in the hush before dark, a dream figure would come down the rose garden, and touch his hand, bidding him come to join her, and the man she had loved so well, in a fairer Garden, where there is no marrying nor giving in marriage, but where they might be as the angels in Heaven.
It would never do for the boy to become morbid, and so the broken man set himself to face the future with a brave resolve.
“Roy, we must talk of the future. Your dear mother left you in my hands, and I will do what I can to make you a happy, and a good man. I am going to take you to England, and we can look out a good school, where you would like to go, and meet other boys of your age, and play games and win prizes.”
With a boy, sorrow can be deep, but not overwhelming, and the thought of doing what he had always longed for, as the Doctor knew, sent a thrill of pleasure through him.
“Oh, Uncle, how good of you! I have always longed to see England, and should love to go to one of the great public schools, I have read about. And my father was English, wasn’t he?”
The Doctor gave a start, for the boy had never before asked about his father.