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Updated: June 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."
"Helen!" he said again, and he spoke with a strange expression in his voice, for it seemed that of hope, "I have been thinking all day of what you told me on Sunday." "What was that, Poldie?" asked Helen with a pang of fear. "Why, those words of course what else? You sang them to me afterwards, you know. Helen, I should like to see Mr. Wingfold. Don't you think he might be able to do something?"
Helen clasped his face between her hands, and gathering courage from despair, if indeed that be a possible source of courage, and it is not gathered rather from the hidden hope of which I speak, and the love that will cleave and not forsake, she set her teeth, and said: "Let her come then, Poldie! I am with you, and I defy her!
Perhaps we may be able to find a little one to buy, just big enough for us two; and you shall marry a nice native " Her forced gaiety gave way. She burst out weeping afresh, and throwing her arms round him, sobbed "Poldie, Poldie! you can pray: cry to God to help us somehow or other; and if there be no God to hear us, then let us die together. There are easy ways of it, Poldie."
Beyond the meadow stood the trees, with the park behind them. And yet further behind lay the hollow with the awful house in its bosom, its dismal haunted lake and its ruined garden. But nothing moved her. She could have walked over every room in that house without a single quaver of the praecordia. Poldie was dead, but was it not well?
"I am afraid you are going to be ill, Poldie; but, however ill you may feel, you must promise me to try and make as little noise as you can, and never cry out if you can help it. When I do like this," she went on, laying her finger on his lips, "you must be silent altogether."
I daresay it's nothing so very bad after all!" "There's the light coming!" he said, in a dull hollow voice, " The morning! always the morning coming again!" "No, no, dear Poldie!" she returned. "There is no window here at least it only looks on the back stair, high above heads; and the morning is a long way off." "How far?" he asked, staring in her eyes "twenty years? That was just when I was bom!
Not until she heard the horses coming round from the stable, did she rise to go and change her dress. "I shall not be long away from you, Poldie," she said. "Do not forget me, Helen," he returned. "If you forget me, an enemy will think of me."
"Down in the hollow there over those trees about the worst place they could have built in. Surely you have seen it! Poldie and I used to run all over it." "No, I never saw it. Was it empty then?" "Yes, or almost. I can remember some little attention paid to the garden, but none to the house. It is just falling slowly to pieces. Would you like to see it?"
If the frightful idea which, she did not doubt, had already suggested itself to Leopold, should now be encouraged, there was nothing but black madness before her! Her Poldie on the scaffold! God in heaven! Infinitely rather would she poison herself and him!
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