The Finding of Jasper Holt by Grace Livingston Hill

"Father! " said Jean, closing the study door and standing guard in front of it lest her mother enter suddenly and be frightened at what she was saying, "Father, I must go to Hawk Valley at once, -- to-day! No, it isn't Eleanor, nor any of them -- -- " she added hastily, as she saw the quick apprehension in her father's face. "They are all well. I've just had a long letter from Eleanor. Father, it's the man who saved my life! He is dying and he needs me. I know he wants me. I love him, father, and he loves me! He didn't think you would like him, and so we never said anything about it -- but now he's dying and I _must go_!"

The look in her eyes and the tilt of her chin were her father's own when he felt he must fulfil some high calling and would not be gainsaid. He knew at a glance that it was useless to try to stop her. Besides, he had all confidence in her.

"I see, daughter," he said with instant comprehension and a swift vision of what the wistfulness in her face had meant all these long months. "How soon can you be ready? There is a train at six, I think."

"I will be ready, father," she said, and then, turning, laid her head for an instant on his shoulder and hid her face in his neck. "Oh, father _dear_!"

He folded her close and kissed her. "Courage, daughter! Trust in our Father's tenderness."

"Thank you so much, father, for understanding," she said, lifting her eyes to his face.

"You will want me to go with you, daughter? " he asked, trying to think how it would be possible.

"No, father, you couldn't. You have that funeral to-morrow, and they need you," she answered, drying her tears, "and then, it wouldn't do to leave mother. No, I can go alone perfectly well. Here is Eleanor's letter. Read it with mother. That will explain a good deal. I will tell you more on the way to the station. He is the one who won the laurel wreath at the tournament. I told you a little about him -- -- "

"Yes, I know. I understand! Poor little child! Now go quickly and I will explain to your mother about it. You haven't much time. Don't try to pack more than a suit case. We can send your trunk on after you."

There are not many fathers so wise as this one, who seemed to know without asking just what was needed, who refrained from needless questions, calmed the frail mother's fears, and helped his girl away to her pain or her rejoicing as it should prove to be, with a blessing upon her as she left.

It was in the sunset gloaming that she arrived in Hawk Valley and the gold of the sky lay behind the hills, ruby lined, like the gold of Jasper Holt's roses whose sweet withered leaves lay stored among her linen in her bureau drawer at home.

They met her at the station, for a telegram had heralded her coming. Quietly, with hushed voices, they met her; for death waited beside the couch in the guest room of their home, and they had guessed how it must be between these two.

"He seems to be sleeping his life away," said Eleanor, folding a cloak about her sister, for she saw that it was going hard with her. "They cannot rouse him. He seems content to go. He does not want to live. It is strange with one so strong and young -- -- "

The light of battle came into the younger sister's eyes, but she answered nothing.

"Better come and get something to eat first," said Eleanor, when they reached the house, but Jean shook her head and fled up the stairs.

There could not have been anything quieter than the way she opened the door and slipped into that room. Her very garments seemed to cling and hush about her as she walked. But he opened his eyes at once; a strange, wondering look came into them as she came across the room and knelt beside him with a smile. Then she bowed her head and laid her lips upon his.

The doctors and the nurse who stood by were as nothing. There were just these two in the universe and all else was hushed.

So she moved about his room, or sat close beside his couch. She was there when he woke in the night, and looked at her, murmuring very low:

"Are you real or a dream?"

"I'm real, dear. I will not go away," she breathed, and laid her soft lips on his again. This time his own responded feebly.