"But, William, she was not to blame!"
"That's what I told her."
"Poor thing!" said Martha; "why, I feel as if I ought to go right up
and comfort her."
"No, no; it isn't necessary," William said. "I'll go, on my way to The
Top."
Mrs. King drew back, coldly, and sympathy wavered into common sense.
"Well, perhaps it's just as well you should. I'm afraid I couldn't
make her feel that she had no responsibility at all,--as you seem to
think. That's one thing about me, I may not be perfect, but I am
sincere; I think she ought to have stopped Sam's love-making months
ago!--Unless perhaps she returned it?" Martha ended, in a tone that
made William redden with silent anger. But he forgot his anger and
everything else when he came into the long parlor at the Stuffed
Animal House, late that afternoon.
"I've thought of you all day," he said, taking Helena's hand and
looking pitifully into her face. It was strangely changed. Something
was stamped into it that had never been there before.... Weeks ago, a
hurricane of anger had uprooted content and vanity and left confusion
behind it. But there was no confusion now; it had cleared into terror.
William found her walking restlessly up and down; she gave him a look,
and then stood quite still, shrinking a little to one side, as if she
expected a blow. Something in that frightened, sidewise attitude made
him hesitate to tell her of Benjamin Wright; she hardly knew the old
gentleman, but it would startle her, the doctor reasoned. And yet,
when very carefully, almost casually, he said that Mr. Wright had had
a slight shock--"his life is not in danger just now," said William,
"but he can't speak;"--she lifted her head and looked at him, drawing
a full breath, as if eased of some burdening thought.
"Will he ever speak?" she said.
"I don't know; I think so. But probably it is the beginning of the
end; poor old man!"
"Poor old man," she repeated mechanically; "poor old man!"
"I haven't told Dr. Lavendar about--last night," William said; "but if
you have no objection I would like to just hint at--at a reason. He
would know how entirely blameless you were."
"Oh, no! please, please, don't!" she said. And William King winced at
his own clumsiness; her reticence made him feel as if he had been
guilty of an impropriety, almost of an indelicacy.