At last he turned
to Edith and laid a firm, strong hand over hers.
"Edith," he said, "do you realize how serious this is?"
"I suppose I do."
"Do you want as fine a fellow as Philip driven any further? If he leaves
that hospital now, and goes out to the exposure and anxiety of a search
for her, there will be a tragedy that no after regrets can avert. Edith,
what did you say to Miss Comstock that made her run away from Phil?"
The girl turned her face from him and sat still, but the man gripping
her hands and waiting in agony could see that she was shaken by the
jolting of the heart in her breast.
"Edith, what did you say?"
"What difference can it make?"
"It might furnish some clue to her action."
"It could not possibly."
"Phil thinks so. He has thought so until his brain is worn enough to
give way. Tell me, Edith!"
"I told her Phil was mine! That if he were away from her an hour and
back in my presence, he would be to me as he always has been."
"Edith, did you believe that?"
"I would have staked my life, my soul on it!"
"Do you believe it now?"
There was no answer. Henderson took her other hand and holding both of
them firmly he said softly: "Don't mind me, dear. I don't count! I'm
just old Hart! You can tell me anything. Do you still believe that?"
The beautiful head barely moved in negation. Henderson gathered both
her hands in one of his and stretched an arm across her shoulders to
the post to support her.
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