Pressing her hands to her temples, Helen resumed her restless march again, but suddenly broke out more violently than before: 

“Now do you wonder why I am half frantic?  Now will you ask me to sing and smile, and sit calmly by while this wrong goes on?  You have done much for me, and God will bless you for it, but you cannot keep me sane.  Death is the only cure for a mad Carrol, and I’m so young, so strong, it will be long in coming unless I hurry it.”

She clenched her hands, set her teeth, and looked about her as if ready for any desperate act that should set her free from the dark and dreadful future that lay before her.

For a moment Christie feared and trembled; then pity conquered fear.  She forgot herself, and only remembered this poor girl, so hopeless, helpless, and afflicted.  Led by a sudden impulse, she put both arms about her, and held her close with a strong but silent tenderness better than any bonds.  At first, Helen seemed unconscious of it, as she stood rigid and motionless, with her wild eyes dumbly imploring help of earth and heaven.  Suddenly both strength and excitement seemed to leave her, and she would have fallen but for the living, loving prop that sustained her.

Still silent, Christie laid her down, kissed her white lips, and busied herself about her till she looked up quite herself again, but so wan and weak, it was pitiful to see her.

“It’s over now,” she whispered, with a desolate sigh.  “Sing to me, and keep the evil spirit quiet for a little while.  To-morrow, if I’m strong enough, we’ll talk about poor little Bella.”

And Christie sang, with tears dropping fast upon the keys, that made a soft accompaniment to the sweet old hymns which soothed this troubled soul as David’s music brought repose to Saul.

When Helen slept at last from sheer exhaustion, Christie executed the resolution she had made as soon as the excitement of that stormy scene was over.  She went straight to Mrs. Carrol’s room, and, undeterred by the presence of her sons, told all that had passed.  They were evidently not unprepared for it, thanks to old Hester, who had overheard enough of Helen’s wild words to know that something was amiss, and had reported accordingly; but none of them had ventured to interrupt the interview, lest Helen should be driven to desperation as before.

“Mother, Helen is right; we should speak out, and not hide this bitter fact any longer.  The world will pity us, and we must bear the pity, but it would condemn us for deceit, and we should deserve the condemnation if we let this misery go on.  Living a lie will ruin us all.  Bella will be destroyed as Helen was; I am only the shadow of a man now, and Hal is killing himself as fast as he can, to avoid the fate we all dread.”

Augustine spoke first, for Mrs. Carrol sat speechless with her trouble as Christie paused.

“Keep to your prayers, and let me go my own way, it’s the shortest,” muttered Harry, with his face hidden, and his head down on his folded arms.