Part 30 (1/2)

”But the nurse and physician can look after him, and the bills can all be sent to you, if you wish,” urged Lady Cameron.

”The nurse and physician will both do their duty more faithfully if I am here to watch them,” Vane answered, inflexibly. ”For her sake,” he added, in a low tone, and with white lips, ”I shall do my utmost to bring him back to health, while if, in spite of all, he dies, I shall lay him by her side, and then take up the broken thread of my own life as best I can.”

Lady Cameron stole to his side and wound her arms about his neck.

”Vane,” she murmured, while tears streamed over her cheeks, ”my n.o.ble boy! it is like you to do this and like the Master who said, 'I was a stranger and ye took me in.' But it breaks my heart to hear you speak in that hopeless tone. I know--I feel sure that the 'broken thread of your life,' as you express it, will be joined again. I cannot contemplate with resignation that you, with your n.o.ble character and grand possibilities for doing good, should carry this unhealed wound to your grave. But I shall not go home to leave you here,” she added, resolutely; ”if you stay to care for this poor, suffering stranger, I shall stay to look after you.”

”Mother, I cannot permit it,” Vane began, but she interrupted him.

”I am inexorable,” she said, firmly. ”You know that the warm weather is not depressing to me, as to most people, and anxiety would prey upon me more than the climate, so it will be useless to urge me further.”

Thus it was settled, and those two royal-hearted people remained for another month in that deserted hotel, and devoted themselves to the care of Wallace Richardson during his critical illness.

He was very, very ill, but as the physician had said, possessed a splendid const.i.tution, and, after a fierce battle with disease, he began slowly to recover--at least his physical health.

But his mind seemed sadly clouded, a condition caused by the pressure of a clot of blood upon his brain, the doctor said, and time alone would show whether he would ever entirely regain the use of his mental faculties; absorption was the only process by which it could be achieved, and this might be slow or rapid, as his general health improved.

At the end of four weeks it was thought that he might safely be moved; indeed, the physician advised it, thinking he would gain strength faster in a more invigorating atmosphere, and Vane determined to convey him directly to the Isle of Wight, whither he had intended taking Violet.

It seemed almost like the mockery of fate that, instead of taking the woman whom he had loved and hoped to make his wife to this beautiful summer home, he should remove hither the man whom she had loved and secretly married, to nurse him back to health.

The change proved to be very beneficial, and Wallace began to gain strength, both physically and mentally, almost immediately.

Possibly the change in medical treatment had also something to do with this improvement, for Lord Cameron placed him under the care of one of the most skillful physicians of London, who happened to be summering on the island.

He did not appear to regard the case so seriously as the French doctor had done.

”He will be all right again in a couple of months,” Doctor Harkness said. ”Give him plain, nouris.h.i.+ng diet, plenty of moderate out-door exercise, and keep his mind free from all exciting subjects.”

Time proved the truth of this prophecy; there was a steady improvement in Wallace from the moment of his arrival upon the island, and twelve weeks from the day of his attack he was p.r.o.nounced a well man again.

During his convalescence, as he came, little by little, to realize his position, together with the kindness and care which had been thrown around him during his illness, he tried to manifest his appreciation of it.

The first time he referred to the subject was one delightful afternoon, when the two young men were sitting together upon the broad piazza of Lord Cameron's elegant villa, which overlooked the sea.

Vane had been reading to his companion an amusing story, which both had seemed to enjoy thoroughly. When he finished it and closed his book Wallace looked up and remarked, gratefully:

”What a good friend you have been to me, Cameron! I hope you do not think me unappreciative, but I have only just begun to have sense enough to find it out.”

”I trust we are good friends,” Vane answered, cordially but evading a direct reply to his grat.i.tude, ”and that we shall continue to be such throughout our lives.”

He had grown to admire the young architect exceedingly during the long weeks that he had so patiently borne his weakness and enforced idleness; while, as his mind gradually became stronger and clearer, he saw that he was no ordinary person, that he possessed great ability--a strong character, and unswerving principles of rect.i.tude.

”Thank you,” Wallace answered, gratefully; ”I hope so, too. But how am I ever to repay you for your unexampled kindness? It is a problem beyond my ability to solve.”

”By pledging the friends.h.i.+p I desire, and saying no more about the obligation--if any there is,” Vane replied, with a genial smile, and holding out his hand to his companion.

Wallace instantly laid his within it, and the two men thus sealed the compact with a violent but heart-felt clasp.

Later Wallace spoke of Violet for the first time since his illness, and begged for more information regarding her sojourn at Mentone and the circ.u.mstances of her flight, though he touched as lightly as possible upon the revolting story of the discovery of the body upon the beach and its burial; but he would not even hint his suspicion of suicide.