By Birth A Lady Part 55

Edward said "natural" as he ran out, hatless, into the frosty night to fetch the doctor, tying his handkerchief round his head as he sped on.

Meanwhile, Mrs Brandon lifted the wasted form in her arms, and bore it to a couch, where she strove ineffectually to restore animation.

Everything she tried seemed useless; and at last, weeping bitterly, she sank upon her knees, and clasped the fragile figure to her heart, moaning as she did so:

"My poor stricken bird! my poor little dove! what does it mean--what does it mean?"

But the form she clasped might have been that from which the vital spark had just fled, save that the icy coldness began gradually to yield to the temperature of the room.

Volume 3, Chapter XXII.

LIGHT!--AND DARKNESS?

Dr Tiddson at last, panting and out of breath; for he had run the greater part of two miles, and upon hearing the few words Mrs Brandon had to utter, he cast aside all the pedantry of his profession to which he clung, and knelt down by the inanimate form.

"Every symptom of having pa.s.sed through a state of fever," he said softly. "Slightly convulsed, even now," he muttered, as from the pulse his finger went to her face. "The candle a little nearer," he said, as he raised an eyelid. "Yes, I thought so! Lungs seem right. I'd stake my life she has but lately risen from a sick bed. Heaven bless the poor child, she's worn to a skeleton! Here, quick, Edward!"

"I'm here, sir," growled the hard footman.

"Take that to my house," he said, hurriedly writing some directions.

"Run, my good man, please."

"I will, sir," said Edward huskily, as a great tear ran trickling down his nose; "but please tell me, sir--we all liked her very much--you--you don't think she'll die?"

"We'll hope not, Edward--we'll hope not," said the doctor solemnly.

"Now go."

Edward gave a great coa.r.s.e sigh as he ran out of the room; but it was genuine sympathy, and worth a host of fine words.

"There's something more than ordinary disease here, Mrs Brandon," said the doctor. "We'll watch by her to-night; and if there is no change by morning, I should like to share the responsibility, and have the counsel of some able pract.i.tioner."

They pa.s.sed that night and many more by the wasted girl's bedside, during which time not once did she give sign of consciousness.

Occasionally a faint fluttering of the pulse seemed to tell of returning power; but it was but a false hope held out.

An almost supernatural strength had enabled her to seek the refuge, where she had somehow, in the darkened state of her intellect, recalled that she would be welcome. Led almost by a subtle instinct, she had made her way by the different lines, and then exhausted her last powers in slowly walking over from Laneton, to sink inanimate at her protectress's feet.

It was long before her senses had thoroughly returned, so that she could recognise those around, and speak in the faintest whisper; but Mrs Brandon trembled, for she judged by what she saw in the doctor's looks that it was but the precursor of a deeper sleep.

Several times over there was a faint whisper breathed into Mrs Brandon's ear that the sufferer had much to say; but invariably Mrs Brandon closed those pale lips with a kiss.

"Wrong or right, my poor child," she said sadly, "rest in peace, for this is your home."

But there was an air of trouble and appeal in Ella's face that would not be gainsayed; and one night Mrs Brandon was seated by her side, when her lips parted to faintly whisper:

"If I am to go, let me know that you all believe in me."

As she spoke, her trembling little hand drew a large envelope from beneath her pillow--a crumpled and bruised envelope.

"Do you wish me to read this?" said Mrs Brandon tenderly.

Ella's lips formed the word "Yes."

Volume 3, Chapter XXIII.

IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS.

The first paper Mrs Brandon drew from the envelope was one in a bold lady's-hand, evidently written hastily, and contained but the following words:

"Dear Max,--I will take him into the waiting-room, where there is a good view of the platform. I can keep him there, _I think_. But you must be quick. Recollect, a momentary glance will do. Run by, if you can, at the very last minute. But pray, pray be careful. _It is victory or ruin; for he would never forgive either_. Laura.

"P.S. _Burn this_, and every note I send."

Mrs Brandon's face wore a troubled puzzled expression as she glanced at Ella, whose lips moved.

"I found that in my reticule since I have lain here," she whispered.

"Read on, and you will understand."

Mrs Brandon took out from the envelope another paper, and read, in a round legal hand:

"Cliff-terrace, Penzance,--18--

"Sir,--I am requested by my patient, Mr Charles Vining, to enclose the note here contained, one which, at his wish, I have addressed as you see. He tells me that he is doubtful of its reaching the lady if sent by post, and desires me to implore you to be its bearer, delivering it yourself, and adding your persuasions if she should decline compliance. He would have written more, but the note enclosed was penned in my brief absence, and I sternly forbade farther exertion. By way of explanation, I may tell you that my patient came in here, with two more gentlemen, in a yacht, driven to the bay by stress of weather. The next night there was a fearful wreck close in sh.o.r.e, and Mr Vining and one of his friends volunteered, and were out in the lifeboat. I regret to say that their gallant attempt only added to the long list of those gone to their account. Two of the lifeboat's crew were drowned, while your friend was cast upon the rocks fearfully injured.

"Let me a.s.sure you that he has had the best advice the town affords.-- I am, sir, your obedient servant,

"Henry Penellyn, M.R.C.S.

"To Maximilian Bray, Esq.

"P.S. Mr Vining bids me tell you that the above is his last request.

"_I do not read to him the following_: Not a moment is to be lost, for internal haemorrhage has set in."

Mrs Brandon's breath came thick and fast, as das.h.i.+ng down this letter, she took up the next.

"My only love,--_Pray_ come to me. I am half-killed.--Ever yours,

"Charles Vining."

"But that is--stop a minute," exclaimed Mrs Brandon, who was terribly agitated, and she rang the bell. "Bring my desk quickly," she said to the maid who answered. "Yes," she exclaimed, as she unlocked the desk and drew out a letter, and compared it carefully. "It is the same hand.

It is his writing!"

"Yes," whispered Ella sadly.

"What does it all mean, then?" exclaimed Mrs Brandon confusedly.

"I cannot tell--I cannot understand," whispered Ella. "I was deceived and led away, and he must have seen me; but he would not have betrayed me thus."

"But how to explain it all!" cried Mrs Brandon excitedly. "He is to be married to Laura Bray--"