"
They spoke those words at the window of the morning-room which opened
on the garden. Mr. Clare paused, after hearing the reply to his inquiry,
stepped out on to the walk, then turned on a sudden, and spoke again:
"Has the doctor given her up?" he asked.
"He has not concealed from us that she is in danger. We can only pray
for her."
The old man laid his hand on Miss Garth's arm as she answered him, and
looked her attentively in the face.
"You believe in prayer?" he said.
Miss Garth drew sorrowfully back from him.
"You might have spared me that question sir, at such a time as this."
He took no notice of her answer; his eyes were still fastened on her
face.
"Pray!" he said. "Pray as you never prayed before, for the preservation
of Mrs. Vanstone's life."
He left her. His voice and manner implied some unutterable dread of the
future, which his words had not confessed. Miss Garth followed him into
the garden, and called to him. He heard her, but he never turned back:
he quickened his pace, as if he desired to avoid her. She watched
him across the lawn in the warm summer moonlight. She saw his white,
withered hands, saw them suddenly against the black background of the
shrubbery, raised and wrung above his head.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181