Infelice Part 71

"You may rest a.s.sured I shall."

Mrs. Palma leaned over her daughter, and as her tears fell on the burning face of the sufferer, the latter put up her hands, and said:

"Belmont, it is raining and your picture will be ruined, and then mamma will ridicule your failure. Cover it quick."

"Olga, my darling, kiss mamma good-night."

But she was busy trying to s.h.i.+eld the imaginary painting with one of the pillows, and began in a quavering voice to sing Longfellow's "Rainy Day." Her mother pressed her lips to the hot cheek, but she seemed unconscious of the caress, and weeping bitterly Mrs. Palma left the room. As she pa.s.sed into the hall a cry escaped her, and the broken words:

"Oh, Erle, I thought you would never come! My poor child!"

Dr. Suydam closed the door, and drawing Regina to the window, proceeded to question her closely, and to instruct her concerning the course of treatment he desired to pursue. Should Olga's pulse sink to a certain stage, specified doses must be given; and in a possible condition of the patient he must be instantly notified.

"I am glad to find Mr. Palma has returned. Though he knows no more than a judge's gavel of what is needful in a sick-room, he will be a support and comfort to all, and his nerves never flag, never waver.

Keep a written record of Olga's condition at the hours I have specified, and shut her mother out of the room as much as possible. I will try to put her to sleep for the next twelve hours, and by that time we shall know the result. Good-night."

Olga had violently opposed the removal from Regina's room, and in accordance with her wishes she had remained where her weary whirling brain first rested on the day of her return. Arranging the medicine and gla.s.ses, and turning down the light, Regina put on her pale blue dressing-gown girded at the waist by a cord and ta.s.sel, and loosely twisted and fastened her hair in a large coil low on her head and neck. She had slept none since Olga came home, and anxiety and fatigue had left unmistakable traces on her pale, sad face. The letter to her mother had been finished and signed, but still lay in the drawer of her portable writing desk, awaiting envelope and stamp; and so oppressed had she been by sympathy with Olga's great suffering, that for a time her own grief was forgotten, or at least put aside.

The announcement of Mr. Palma's return vividly recalled all that beclouded her future, and she began to dread the morrow that would subject her to his merciless bright eyes, feeling that his presence was dangerous. Perhaps by careful manoeuvring she might screen herself in the sick-room for several days, and thus avoid the chance of an interview, which must result in an inquiry concerning her answer to Mr. Lindsay's letter. Fearful of her own treacherous heart, she was unwilling to discuss her decision until a.s.sured she had grown calm and firm, from continued contemplation of her future lot; moreover, her guardian would probably return from Was.h.i.+ngton an accepted lover, and she shrank from the spectacle of his happiness, as from glowing ploughshares--lying scarlet in her pathway. In this room she would ensconce herself, and should he send for her, various excuses might be devised to delay the unwelcome interview.

Olga had grown more quiet, and for nearly an hour after the doctor's departure she only now and then resumed her rambling, incoherent monologue. Sitting beside the bed, Regina watched quietly until the clock struck twelve, and she coaxed the sufferer to take a spoonful of a sedative from which the physician hoped much benefit. She bathed the crimson cheeks with a cloth dipped in iced water, and all the while the hazel eyes watched her suspiciously. Other reflections began to colour her vision, and the happy phase was merging into one of terror, lest her lover should die or be torn away from her.

Leaning over her, Regina endeavoured to compose her by a.s.surances that Belmont was well and safe, but restlessly she tossed from side to side.

At last she began to cry, softly at first, like a fretful weary child; and while Regina held her hands, essaying to soothe her, a shadow glided between the gas globe and the bed, and Mr. Palma stood beside the two. He looked pale, anxious, and troubled, as his eyes rested sorrowfully on the fevered face upon the pillow, and he saw that the luxuriant hair had been closely clipped, to facilitate applications to relieve the brain. The parched lips were browned and cracked, and the vacant stare in the eyes told him that consciousness was still a long way off.

But was there even then a magnetic recognition, dim and vague, of the person whom she regarded as the inveterate enemy of her happiness?

Cowering among the bedclothes, she trembled and said, in a husky yet audible whisper:

"Will you hide us a little while? Belmont and I will soon sail, and if Erle Palma and mamma knew it, they would tear me from my darling, and chain me to Silas Congreve, and that would kill me. Oh! I only want my darling; not the Congreve emeralds, only my Belmont, my darling."

Something that in any other man would have been a groan, came from the lawyer's granite lips, and Regina, who s.h.i.+vered at his presence, looked up, and said hastily:

"Please go away, Mr. Palma; the sight of you will make her worse."

He only folded his arms over his chest, sighed, and sat down, keeping his eyes fixed on Olga. It was one o'clock before she ceased her pa.s.sionate pleading for protection from those whom she believed intent upon sacrificing her, and then turning her face to the wail she became silent, only occasionally muttering rapid indistinct sentences.

For some time Mr. Palma sat with his elbow on his knee, and his head resting on his hand, and even in that hour of deep anxiety and dread, Regina realized that she was completely forgotten; that he had neither looked at nor spoken to her.

Nearly a half-hour pa.s.sed thus, and his gaze had never wandered from the restless sufferer on the bed, when Regina rose and renewed the cold cloths on her forehead. She counted the pulse, and while she still sat on the edge of the bed, Olga half rose, threw herself forward with her head in Regina's lap, and one arm clasped around her. Softly the girl motioned to her guardian to place the bowl of iced water within her reach, and, dipping her left hand in the water, she stole her fingers lightly across the burning brow. Olga became quiet, and by degrees the lids drooped over the inflamed eyes.

Patiently Regina continued her gentle cool touches, and at last she was rewarded by seeing the sufferer sink into the first sleep that had blessed her during her illness.

Fearing to move even an inch lest she should arouse her, and knowing the physician's anxiety to secure repose, the slight figure sat like a statue, supporting the head and shoulders of the sleeper. The clock ticked on, and no other sound was audible, save a sigh from Mr.

Palma, and the heavy breathing of Olga. The former was leaning back in his chair, with his arms crossed, and though Regina avoided looking at him, she knew from the s.h.i.+mmer of his gla.s.ses, that his eyes were turned upon her. Gradually the room grew cold, and she raised her hand and pointed to a large shawl lying on a chair within his reach. Very warily the two spread it lightly over the arms and shoulders, without disturbing the sleeper. One arm was clasped about Regina's waist, and the flushed face was pressed against her side.

So they watched until three o'clock, and then Mr. Palma saw that the girl was wearied by the constrained, uncomfortable position. He had been studying the colourless, mournful features that were as regular and white as if fas.h.i.+oned in Pentelicus, and noted that the heavy hair coiled low at the back of the head, gave a singularly graceful outline to the whole. She kept her eyes bent upon the face in her lap, and the beautiful lashes and snowy lids drooped over their blue depth. He knew from the paling of her lips that she was faint and tired, but he realized that she could be relieved only by the sacrifice of that sound slumber, upon which Olga's welfare was so dependent. If she stirred even a muscle the sleeper might awake to renewed delirium.

The next hour seemed the longest he had ever spent, and several times he looked at his watch, hoping the clock a laggard. To Regina the vigil was inexpressibly trying, and sitting there three feet from her guardian, she dared not lift her gaze to the countenance that was so dear.

At four o'clock he took a pillow and lounge cus.h.i.+on and placed them behind her as a support for her wearied frame, but she dared not lean against them sufficiently to find relief; and stooping he put his arm around her shoulder, and pressed her head against him. Laying his cheek on hers, he whispered very cautiously, for his lips touched her ear:

"I am afraid you feel very faint; you look so. Can you bear it a little while longer?"

His breath swept warm across her cold cheek, and she hastily inclined her head. He lowered his arm, but remained close beside her, and at last she beckoned to him to bend down, and whispered:

"The fire ought to be renewed in the furnace; will you go down, and attend to it?"

Shod in his velvet slippers, he noiselessly left the room.

How long he was absent, she was unable to determine, for her heart was beating madly from the pressure of his cheek, and the momentary touch of his arm; and gazing at the ring on her finger, she fiercely upbraided herself for this sinful folly. Wearing that opal, was it not unwomanly and wicked to thrill at the contact with one, who never could be more than her coolly kind, prudent, sagacious guardian? She felt numb, sick, giddy, and her heart--ah! how it ached as she tried to realize fully that some day he would caress Mrs. Carew!

Olga slept heavily, and when Mr. Palma returned, he brought his warm scarlet-lined dressing-gown and softly laid it around Regina's shoulders. She looked up to express her thanks, but he was watching Olga's face, and soon after walked to the mantlepiece and stood leaning, with his elbow upon it.

At last the slumberer moaned, turned, and after a few restless movements, threw herself back on the bolster, and fell asleep once more, with disjointed words dying on her lips. It was five o'clock, and Mr. Palma beckoned Regina to him.

"She will be better when she wakes. Go to her room, and go to sleep.

I will watch her until her mother comes in."

"I could not sleep, and am unwilling to leave her until the doctor arrives."

"You look utterly exhausted."

"I am stronger than I seem."

"Mrs. Palma tells me that you have been made acquainted with the unfortunate infatuation which has overshadowed poor Olga's life for some years at least. I should be glad to know what you have learned."

"All that was communicated to me on the subject was under the seal of confidence, and I hope you will excuse me if I decline to betray the trust reposed in me."

"Do you suppose I am ignorant of what has recently occurred?"

"At least, sir, I shall not recapitulate what pa.s.sed between Olga and myself."

"You are aware that she considers me the author of all her wretchedness."

"She certainly regards you and Mrs. Palma's opposition to her marriage with Mr. Eggleston as the greatest misfortune of her life."

"He is utterly unworthy of her affection, is an unscrupulous dissipated man; and it were better she should die to-day, rather than have wrecked her future by uniting it with his."

"But she loved him so devotedly."

"She was deceived in his character, and refused to listen to a statement of facts. When she knows him as he really is, she will despise him."

"I am afraid not"

"I know her better than you do. Olga is a n.o.ble high-souled woman, and she will live to thank me for her salvation from Eggleston. Her marriage with Mr. Congreve must not be consummated; I will never permit it in my house."

"She believes you have urged it, have manoeuvred to bring it to pa.s.s, and this has enhanced her bitterness."

"Manoeuvring is beneath me, and I am justly accused of much for which I am in no degree responsible. Poor Olga has painted me an inhuman monster, but her good sense will ere long acquit me, when this madness has left her and she is once more amenable to reason."