Then
pressing her hand on her side, she sank into the seat which Miss
Burton had occupied a little before.
Jennie Burton waved a handkerchief--that meant life. "Thank God!"
she murmured, and tears of joy rushed into her eyes. She now saw
that Stanton was supporting Van Berg. She sprang up the steps
again, broke through the excited and curious throng on the piazza,
and was back with a strong arm-chair from the office by the time
the carriage stopped at the door.
"That's a sensible girl, Ida," said Stanton, "that's just the thing
to carry him in. Now, Van, rally and do your best a few moments
longer, and you're all right."
At the sound of Ida's name he lifted his head and looked around
till he met her eyes, and then smiled gladly. His smile satisfied
her completely, and she stepped quietly into the background. "He
has not broken his pledge, even in thought," she murmured. "I can
trust him still."
He was carried up the steps and stairs to his room, followed by all
eyes. Ida stole to Jennie Burton, and kept near her as she sought
to quietly gain her room by a side stairs.
"You are faint, Miss Burton," she said gently, "lean on me," and
Jennie did lean on her more and more heavily until she reached her
room, and then her blue eyes closed, and the day she so dreaded
was over, as far as she had consciousness of it.
Pages:
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712