yet no one was allowed to see
the patient.
For a time Stephen was inclined to be chagrined. It is not pleasant to
have even the most generous and benevolent intentions thwarted; and she
had set her mind on making much of this man whom fate and his own bravery
had thrown athwart her life. But in these days Stephen was in some ways
a changed woman. She had so much that she wished to forget and that she
would have given worlds to recall, that she could not bear even to think
of any militant or even questioning attitude. She even began to take
herself to task more seriously than she had ever done with regard to
social and conventional duties. When she found her house full of so many
and so varied guests, it was borne in upon her that such a position as
her own, with such consequent duties, called for the presence of some
elder person of her own sex and of her own class.
No better proof of Stephen's intellectual process and its result could be
adduced than her first act of recognition: she summoned an elderly lady
to live with her and matronise her house. This lady, the widow of a
distant relation, complied with all the charted requirements of
respectability, and had what to Stephen's eyes was a positive gift: that
of minding her own business and not interfering in any matter whatever.
Lady de Lannoy, she felt, was her own master and quite able to take care
of herself. Her own presence was all that convention required. So she
limited herself to this duty, with admirable result to all, herself
included. After a few days Stephen would almost forget that she was
present.
Mr. Hilton kept bravely to his undertaking. He never gave even a hint of
his hopes of the restoration of sight; and he was so assiduous in his
attention that there arose no opportunity of accidental discovery of the
secret. He knew that when the time did come he would find himself in a
very unpleasant situation. Want of confidence, and even of intentional
deceit, might be attributed to him; and he would not be able to deny nor
explain. He was, however; determined to stick to his word. If he could
but save his patient's sight he would be satisfied.
But to Stephen all the mystery seemed to grow out of its first shadowy
importance into something real. There was coming to her a vague idea
that she would do well not to manifest any concern, any anxiety, any
curiosity. Instinct was at work; she was content to trust it, and wait.
One forenoon
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