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Updated: June 19, 2025
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.
Her hand was on his mouth instantly, and her sobs ceased, while the tears kept flowing down her white face. "Just think, Poldie," she said, in a voice which she seemed to have borrowed in her need from some one else, " just think a moment! What if there should be some help in the great wide universe somewhere, for as wide as it is a heart that feels for us both, as my heart feels for you, Poldie!
Poldie! but somehow it seemed fresh to him, and he made it look fresh to me, for I felt as if it hadn't been intended for preaching about at all, but for going straight into people's hearts its own self, without any sermon.
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!
"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.
Searching the newspapers, Helen heard that a week had elapsed between the "mysterious murder of a young lady in Yorkshire" and the night on which he came to her window. "Well, Poldie, after all I would rather be you than she!" cried Helen indignantly, when she had learned the whole story. It was far from the wisest thing to say, but she meant it, and clasped her brother to her bosom.
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."
There, with the help of the household, she might have a chance of concealing him a poor one, certainly! but here, how was she even to keep him to the house in his raving fits? "Poldie, dear!" she said, "you must come with me. I am going to take you to my own room, where I can nurse you properly, and need not leave you. Do you think you could walk as far?" "Walk! Yes quite well: why not?"
"What a wicked, selfish, bad sister, bad nurse, bad everything, I am, Poldie!" she said, her tone ascending the steps of vocal indignation as she spoke. "But shall I tell you" here she looked all about the chamber and into the dressing-room ere she proceeded "shall I tell you, Poldie, what it is that makes me so I don't know what? It is all the fault of the sermon I heard this morning.
How shall I know when to begin to look for you? What o'clock is it? My watch has never been since . Ugh! the light will be here soon. Helen, I know now what hell is. Ah! Yes." As he spoke he had been feeling in one of his pockets. "I will not be taken alive. Can you whistle, Helen?" "Yes, Poldie," answered Helen, trembling. "Don't you remember teaching me?" "Yes, yes.
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