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Updated: June 13, 2025
There was no light besides the warm, red glow of a fire, which was no longer burning with yellow flame, but which lit up sufficiently the figure of a woman seated on a low stool on the hearth, with her head resting on the hand that shaded her eyes. It was a figure familiar to him in his old life that life which lay on the other side of Roland Sefton's grave.
The door opened wider, some one entered, closed it softly, and approached the bed through the dull fire-light. "I did not think you would be in bed!" said the voice, which Walter now knew for Sefton's; "but at the risk of waking you, even of giving you a sleepless night, I must have a little talk with you!" "I shall be glad," answered Walter. Sefton little thought how welcome was his visit!
"He went away on a long holiday, unluckily without announcing it, on account of bank business; but Mr. Clifford, the senior partner, was on his way to take charge of affairs. There was but one day between Roland Sefton's departure and Mr. Clifford's arrival, but during that very day, for some reason or other unknown, the head clerk committed suicide, and there was a panic and a run upon the bank.
'What a horridly stupid boy he must be, returned Mysie. 'Why, I remember when Jasper once had the 'Talisman' to do, and the big ones were so delighted. Mamma read it out, and I was just old enough to listen. I remembered all about Sir Kenneth and Roswal. 'Tom Sefton's not stupid! said Dolores, in wrath; 'but but the book is stupid and out of date!
As the night wore on a feverish dread took possession of her that she should be unable to prevent Felicita's burial beside Roland Sefton's grave. Even Felix would decide that it ought to be so. As soon as the dawn came she rose and went out into the icy freshness of the morning air, blowing down from the snow-fields and the glaciers around her. The village was beginning to arouse itself.
If it wasn't for the living things around me, that know me as well as they know one another, and love me more, I should feel sometimes as if I was dead. And I long so to hear somebody speak to be near more of my fellow-creatures. Why, when I touch the hand of any one I love yours, or Mr. Sefton's, or Madame's it's almost a pain to me; it seems to bring me so close to you.
Sefton was a proud, ambitious woman, but she was not wholly without feelings, and she had always been fond of Bessie. The girl's sweetness and humility, her absence of all assumption, the childlike way in which she threw herself upon her womanly kindness, touched Mrs. Sefton's cold heart, and she kissed the wet, flushed cheek. "Don't cry, Bessie.
"That is as often because they can swim, but have not Mr. Sefton's prudence." "You mustn't think my cousin afraid of Red Racket!" she returned. "I don't. He doesn't look like it!" "Do you really wish to ride the roan?" "Indeed I do!" "I will order him round," she said, rising. Walter did not quite enjoy her consenting so easily; had she no fear for him of the risk Mr. Sefton would not run?
I will never, never visit Roland Sefton's sin on his son; I will never in my heart think of it as a thing against him. And if all the world came to know it, I would never once feel a moment's shame of him." Her voice faltered a little, and she knelt down on the parched grass at the foot of the cross, hiding her face in her hands.
I am not quite sure how I should like staying with strange people; we have got into homely ways, never going anywhere except to Aunt Charlotte's or Uncle Charles', and I don't know how I should get on with rich people like the Sefton's; besides, father and mother may not wish me to accept the invitation," glancing at her mother's thoughtful face.
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