Free Hearts Afire by J. D Rawden, Patrick Griffith

all I can say.”
    Then Charlotte covered her face, and sobbed with a hopelessness and abandon
that equally fretted Mistress Gordon. Now, what are you crying for, child?”
    “If I could only see Harleigh ,—only see him for
one moment!”
    “That is exactly what I am going to propose. He will get better when he has
seen you. I will call a coach, and we will go at once.”
    “Alas! Go I dare not. My father and my mother!”
    “And Harleigh ,—what of Harleigh ,
poor Harleigh , who is dying for you?” Mistress Gordon
went to the door, and gave the order for a coach. “Your lover, Charlotte.
Child, have you no heart? Shall I tell Harleigh you
would not come with me?”
    “Be not so cruel to me. Say not you have seen me at all, why need you say?”
    “Oh! Indeed, Charlotte, do not imagine yourself the only person who values
the truth. Harleigh always asks me, “Have you seen
her?” Tis my honor to be truthful, and I am always swayed by my inclination. I
shall feel it to be my duty to inform him how indifferent you are. Charlotte,
put on your bonnet again. Here also are my veil and cloak. No one will perceive
that it is you. It is the part of humanity, I assure you. Do so much for a poor
soul who is at the grave's mouth.”
    “My father, I promised him”—
    “O child! Have a penny worth of common feeling about you. The man is dying
for your sake. If he were your enemy, instead of your true lover, you might
pity him so much. Do you not wish to see Harleigh ?”
    “My life for his life I would give.”
    “Words, words, my dear. It is not your life he wants.
He asks only ten minutes of your time. And if you desire to see him, give
yourself the pleasure. There is nothing more silly than to be too wise to be happy.”
    While thus alternately urging and persuading Charlotte, the coach came, the
disguise was assumed, and the two drove rapidly to the “King's Arms.” Harleigh was lying upon a couch which had been drawn close
to the window. But in order to secure as much quiet as possible, he had been
placed in one of the rooms at the rear of the tavern,—a large, airy room,
looking into the beautiful garden which stretched away backward. He had been in
extremity. He was yet too weak to stand, too weak to endure long the strain of
company or books or papers.
    He heard Mistress Gordon's voice and footfall, and felt, as he always did, a
vague pleasure in her coming. Whatever of life came into his chamber of
suffering came through her. She brought him daily such intelligences as she
thought conducive to his recovery; and it must be acknowledged that it was not
always her “humor to be truthful.” For Harleigh had
so craved news of Charlotte, that she believed he would die wanting it.
    Her reports had been ingenious and diversified. “She had seen Charlotte at
one of the windows,—the very picture of distraction.” “She had been told that
Charlotte was breaking her heart about him;” also, “that Sir Edward and elder
Van Heemskirk had quarreled because Charlotte had
refused to see him, and the elder blamed Joris Morgan
for not compelling her obedience.” Whenever Harleigh had been unusually depressed or unusually nervous, Mistress Gordon had always
had some such comforting fiction ready. Now, here was the real Charlotte. Her
very presence, her smiles, her tears, her words, would be a consolation so far
beyond all hope, that the girl by her side seemed a kind of miracle to her.
    She was far more than a miracle to Harleigh . As
the door opened, he slowly turned his head. When he saw who was really
there, he uttered a low cry of joy,—a cry pitiful in its shrill weakness. In a
moment Charlotte was close to his side. This was no time for coyness, and she
was too tender and true a woman to feel or to affect it. She kissed his hands
and face, and whispered on his lips the sweetest words of love and fidelity. Harleigh was in a rapture. His joyful soul made his pale
face luminous. He lay still, speechless, motionless,