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Updated: May 19, 2025
But of course what made them so different to me, was" here Helen did burst into tears, but she fought with her sobs, and went on "was was that my heart is breaking for you, Poldie for I shall never see you smile again, my darling!" She buried her face on his pillow, and Leopold uttered "a great and exceeding bitter cry."
Yet, even with the thought of denial in her mind, she looked up, and gazed earnestly into the wide innocent mighty space, as if by searching she might find some one. Perhaps she OUGHT to pray. She could see no likelihood of a God, and yet something pushed her towards prayer. What if all this had come upon her and Poldie because she never prayed!
As she thus reflected, the thought of what people would say, were it remarked that she contrived to meet the curate, brought a shadow of scorn upon her face. Leopold saw the expression, and, sensitive as an ailing woman, said, "Helen, what HAVE I done to make you look like that?" "How did I look, my Poldie?" she asked, turning on him eyes like brimming wells of love and tenderness.
And the sister who, all the time of the sermon, had been filled with wave upon wave of wishing that Poldie could hear this, could hear that, could have such a thought to comfort him, such a lovely word to drive the horror from his soul, now cast on him a chilly glance, and said never a word of the things to which she had listened with such heavings of the spirit-ocean; for she felt, with an instinct more righteous than her will, that they would but strengthen him in his determination to do whatever the teacher of them might approve.
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