now able
to sit up for some hours each day, and Percy undertook to be always at
hand. He was invited to Brogden for Christmas; but it was agreed between
him and Theodora that they must deny themselves the pleasure of spending
it together; they thought it unfit to leave Violet even for a few days
entirely unassisted.

Mr. Hugh Martindale came to fetch Theodora home. He brought a more
satisfactory account of poor Emma, who had never forwarded the promised
explanation to Theodora. Lady Elizabeth had applied to him to clear
Emma's mind from some of the doubts and difficulties inspired by
her friend, and at present, though her spirits were very low, they
considered that one great step had been gained, for she had ceased every
day to write to Miss Marstone.

Theodora had fixed many hopes on her cousin's interview with Arthur,
but they only talked of Brogden news; however, she heard afterwards
that Hugh was well satisfied with what he had seen of him, and that he
thought Percy's view the safest. It was better to force nothing upon
him. It was a sad struggle to resolve to depart, but it was made in
thankfulness, when Theodora remembered the feelings with which she had
entered that house. She went up in the early morning to wish Arthur
good-bye. He raised himself and embraced her fondly.

'Thank you, Theodora,' he said; 'you have been a good sister to me.'

'Oh, Arthur, Arthur!' as the dark remembrance came, but he did not
perceive it.

'I have been an ungrateful wretch, but I never understood it till
lately,' said he again. 'The fire,--those children--'

'Hush, hush! you are hurting yourself,' for he was choked with excess of
feeling.

'I can't say more;--but, oh! if I could help keeping you from
happiness!' and he was here overpowered by cough and emotion so much
as to alarm her, and she was forced to keep silence, and only kiss
him again. He returned it with a squeeze of the hand and a look of
affection. He had never given her such an one in the days when she
deemed his love a thing exclusively her own, she had now gained
something far better than his heart had then to offer. The best spot in
it then had nothing half so deep, fond, and unselfish as what he gave
her now.

She had ceased her wilful struggle, and besides all the rest, even this
was added unto her.

CHAPTER 14

A calm stream flowing with a muddy one,
Till, in its onward current, it absorbs
With swifter movement and in purer