"
"Who MAY die fighting," broke from Miss Vanderpoel sharply.
"Who--who may----" Mrs. Brent corrected herself, "though Heaven grant he
will not. But it was the ringers who made me feel as if all really
was over. Thank you, Miss Vanderpoel, thank you for being so practical
and--and cool."
"It WAS touching," said Lady Anstruthers, her eyes brimming over again.
"And what the villagers feel is true. It goes to one's heart," in a
little outburst. "People have been unkind to him! And he has been lonely
in that great empty place--he has been lonely. And if he is dying
to-day, he is lonely even as he dies--even as he dies."
Betty drew a deep breath. For one moment there seemed to rise before
her vision of a huge room, whose stately size made its bareness a more
desolate thing. And Mr. Penzance bent low over the bed. She tore her
thought away from it.
"No! No!" she cried out in low, passionate protest. "There will be
love and yearning all about him everywhere. The villagers who are
waiting--the poor things he has worked for--the very ringers themselves,
are all pouring forth the same thoughts. He will feel even ours--ours
too! His soul cannot be lonely."
A few minutes earlier, Mrs.
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