The Keepers of the People

446Althea had fallen from the brightness his coming had inspired into her, and lay back very frail and white against the cushions. He looked at her, and said, “Child, you must sleep.”

447She opened her eyes bright with fever, and said, “I wish I could, Ralph.”

448He drew his chair closer, and leaning forward said, “Look into my eyes, steadily.”

449He passed his hand over her forehead slowly and very gently; she looked into his eyes, and little by little the feverish brightness faded from her own; her breathing grew smoother; her limbs lay heavier on the couch. Then her eyes grew dim, the heavy lids fell slowly over them, and she fell into a sleep that grew quickly deeper.

450“She will be well to-morrow,” he said to the wondering Lady Lisdor.

451“It won’t hurt her at all?” said Lady Lisdor anxiously.

452“Would I hurt one of my kin, a child, Ruth?” he said gently.

453She had never thought his voice capable of so soft an inflection, and she watched him draw gently the coverlets over the sleeping Althea, feeling that the last hour had shown her a tenderer sympathy in him than she had imagined. Leaving the sleeping child, they went out into the moonlight to breathe the cooler air; and walked in silence. Now and again her shoulder touched his arm. She could not help it.

454Later, when they came into the drawing-room, Miss Freshington cried out at the sight of the girdle.

455“Ralph has just given it to me,” said Lady Lisdor, laying her hand on it.

456“Of course, you neither of you thought of asking my leave,” said Lord Lisdor, with a whimsical air. “And I should make no end of a fuss, don’t you know, if you weren’t so jolly ‘Arabian Nights,’ Ralph?”

457But Miss Freshington’s eyes blazed suddenly upon Ruth, and turned from her to fall contemptuously on Lord Lisdor. Till they went to bed, little used as she was to be silent, she spoke never a word; she sat in earnest thought.

458Althea awoke next morning with quiet nerves, and clear eyes; and they fell once more into the easy life, the pleasanter for the absence of Prince Melinsky. But a few days later Lady Hammersmith broke abruptly the peace. She had chanced upon Ralph Falcon’s mutes, and came to dinner bent on protest, indignant and inflamed. The antipathy between her and Ralph Falcon had grown almost a repulsion.