Читать книгу Walda. A Novel онлайн

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“Thou wilt tell me the truth about my father,” she said, addressing Everett. She spoke in precise English, with a soft accent and full tone.

“He is seriously ill, but he will recover from this attack,” Everett answered.

The girl folded her hands on her breast in the manner common to Zanah.

“It is my duty to rejoice when death freeth the soul, and yet I cannot think of my father’s illness with aught but sadness,” she said, as a tear trickled down her cheek.

“Thou art showing weakness,” admonished Mother Kaufmann.

“Be not so stern,” said Gerson Brandt. “She hath not yet faced the mystery of death. She is young, and she loveth her father.”

“Always thou dost find excuse for Walda Kellar,” said the woman. “She is near to the day of inspiration, and the things of this world should not touch her.”

Walda Kellar appeared not to hear Mother Kaufmann’s words. Her eyes were fastened upon Everett’s face.

“Thou art not going away from Zanah soon, art thou?” she asked. “Nay, stay to watch my father until he shall be out of danger.” There was such pleading in her tone that it touched the heart of the man of the world. Her beauty cast a spell over him.