Three years ago my father
died, and we came here. I was well then, and oh, how happy!"
Clasping her hands above her head, she stood like a beautiful, pale
image of despair; tearless and mute, but with such a world of
anguish in the eyes lifted to the smiling picture opposite that it
needed no words to tell the story of a broken heart.
"How I loved him!" she said, softly, while her whole face glowed for
an instant with the light and warmth of a deathless passion. "How I
loved him, and how he loved me! Too well to let me darken both our
lives with a remorse which would come too late for a just atonement.
I thought him cruel then,--I bless him for it now. I had far rather
be the innocent sufferer I am, than a wretched woman like my mother.
I shall never see him any more, but I know he thinks of me far away
in India, and when I die one faithful heart will remember me."
There her voice faltered and failed, and for a moment the fire of
her eyes was quenched in tears. Christie thought the reaction had
come, and rose to go and comfort her. But instantly Helen's hand was
on her shoulder, and pressing her back into her seat, she said,
almost fiercely:
"I'm not done yet; yon must hear the whole, and help me to save
Bella.
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