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"Oh Poldie! my own Poldie!" she cried at length, and fell upon her knees not-to worship the sky not to pray to Poldie, or even for Poldie not indeed to pray at all, so far as she knew; yet I doubt if it was merely and only from the impulse of the old childish habit of saying prayers. But in a moment she grew restless. There was no Poldie! She rose and walked about the room.
"Let me see," answered Leopold; and after a moment's thought replied, "As Milton's Satan might have looked if Mammon had counselled him to make off with the crown-jewels instead of declaring war." "Ah, Poldie!" cried Helen, delighted at the stray glance of sunshine, and kissing him as she spoke, "you must really be better!
His head was raised from the floor and his hands were stretched out, while his face entreated her, as plainly as if he had spoken, not to leave him. She knelt and would have kissed him, but he turned his face from her with an expression which seemed of disgust. "Poldie," she said, "I MUST go and get you something. Don't be afraid. They are all sound asleep."
Then she put a dark shawl over her head, and fastened it under her chin. Her white face shone out from it like the moon from a dark cloud. "Follow me, Poldie," she said, and putting out the candles, went to the window. He obeyed without question, carrying the loaf she had put into his hands. The window-sash rested on a little door; she opened it, and stepped on the balcony.
Nothing divided them now, yet he stood as before, staring into her face. Presently his lips began to move, but no words came from them. In Helen, horror had already roused the instinct of secrecy. She put out her two hands, took his face between them, and said in a hurried whisper, calling him by the pet name she had given him when a child, "Come in, Poldie, and tell me all about it."
"Then he ain't fit to be God!" cried Leopold fiercely. "I wouldn't have a word to say to a God that didn't cut a man in pieces for such a deed! Oh Helen, she was so lovely! and what is she now?" "Surely if there were a God, he would do something to set it right somehow! I know if I was God, Poldie, I should find some way of setting you up again, my darling.
You see he's not one to pay young ladies compliments, as I have heard some parsons do; and he may be a little no, not unpolished, not that that's not what I mean but unornamental in his manners! Only, you see, " "Only, you see, Poldie," interrupted Helen, with a smile, a rare thing between them, "you know all about him, though you never saw him before."
Nothing divided them now, yet he stood as before, staring into her face. Presently his lips began to move, but no words came from them. In Helen, horror had already roused the instinct of secrecy. She put out her two hands, took his face between them, and said in a hurried whisper, calling him by the pet name she had given him when a child, "Come in, Poldie, and tell me all about it."
So when Leopold came in the holidays, the place was one of their favoured haunts, and they knew every cubic yard in the house. "Here," said Helen to her cousin, as she opened the door in a little closet, and showed a dusky room which had no window but a small one high up in the wall of a back staircase, "here is one room into which I never could get Poldie without the greatest trouble.
She shall know that a sister's love is stronger than the hate of a jilt even if you did kill her. Before God, Poldie, I would after all rather be you than she. Say what you will, she had herself to blame, and I don't doubt did twenty worse things than you did when you killed her." But Leopold seemed not to hear a word she said, and lay with his face to the wall.
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