Ashton. Peace
was between them; and these visits to her sick-chamber were strangely
welcome to her heart. She had loved Val Elster all her life, and she
loved him still, in spite of the past. For Val was curiously subdued; and
his present mood, sad, quiet, thoughtful, was more endearing than his
gayer one had been. Mrs. Ashton did not fail to read that he was a
disappointed man, one with some constant care upon him.
Anne was in the hall when he entered, talking to a poor applicant who was
waiting to see the Rector. Lord Hartledon lifted his hat to her, but did
not offer to shake hands. He had never presumed to touch her hand since
the reconciliation; in fact, he scarcely ever saw her.
"How is Mrs. Ashton to-day?"
"A little better, I think. She will be glad to see you."
He followed the servant upstairs, and Anne turned to the woman again.
Mrs. Ashton was in an easy-chair near the window; he drew one close to
her.
"You are looking wonderful to-day, do you know?" he began in tones almost
as gay as those of the light-hearted Val Elster. "What is it? That very
becoming cap?"
"The cap, of course. Don't you see its pink ribbons? Your favourite
colour used to be pink, Val. Do you remember?"
"I remember everything. But indeed and in truth you look better, dear
Mrs. Ashton."
"Yes, better to-day," she said, with a sigh. "I shall fluctuate to the
end, I suppose; one day better, the next worse.
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