95 
End of the Fight

Word of Stirling’s madcap dash into town, followed by Timothy Diggorsfeld’s buggy tearing off toward Heathersleigh Hall but a few minutes later, was enough to set the town abuzz with speculation.

Amanda, who had come to the bakery for fresh bread and rolls, caught wind of it and rushed home. She and her mother hurried toward the Hall only moments later, and were running through the door of their former home as Timothy slowly and almost reverently descended the stairs with papers in hand, eyes wet with tears, after his poignant interview with the invalid. They saw the expression on his face, sadness mingled with a strange light, and surmised the truth in an instant.

“Timothy!” exclaimed Jocelyn, running to him. “Is he—”

Timothy shook his head.

“He is still hanging on,” he said. “But he is failing.”

Stirling, who had been waiting for Timothy in the drawing room and now hearing their voices, rose quickly and came out. Amanda went to him weeping. He took her in his arms.

“Is there . . . any hope?” said Jocelyn, glancing back and forth between Stirling and Timothy.

Timothy glanced toward Stirling.

Slowly Stirling shook his head. “I am afraid not,” he said. “Even if we could get him to a sanitarium now, I fear it is too late.”

A cry burst from Jocelyn’s mouth. “I must call Martha, then,” she said, “no matter what Geoffrey says.”

She turned and ran up the stairs toward her husband’s former office.

“I need to go to Dr. Armbruster,” said Stirling. “I will be back as soon as I can.” He turned to go.

“Geoffrey would like to see you for a moment,” interposed Timothy, handing Stirling the papers in his hand.

Stirling nodded.

“Is it all right for me to see him?” asked Amanda as she and Stirling began to climb the stairs together.

“Of course,” replied Stirling, who, now that the full truth was apparent, was beginning to be concerned for the health of his wife-to-be. “Only please, for my sake,” he added, “do not sit too close . . . and wash well after you leave the room.—Just give me a minute alone with him,” he said, “then you can talk to him while I go to Dr. Armbruster.”

In tears Amanda nodded, hating the thought of having to protect herself from one she had come to care for so dearly.

Timothy, meanwhile, went to find Mrs. Polkinghorne, to tell her, as gently as he could, that her master was dying.

————

Knowing that their son had been having a bad winter, but without any idea how serious the condition was, Gifford and Martha Rutherford arrived in Milverscombe on the late-afternoon train that same day. Jocelyn was standing on the platform waiting to greet them. At sight of her, Martha burst into tears and ran into her arms. Gifford approached stoic and expressionless.

They had arrived in time but only by a few hours. Jocelyn rushed them to the Hall, where by now a small crowd had gathered. After contacting Martha, Jocelyn had also telephoned Catharine in Plymouth. She and Terrill were expected within the hour.

With Stirling leading her up the stairs, Martha rushed up to the room. Stirling closed the door behind her and waited outside. Mother and son exchanged a few last poignant expressions of love. The father, however, trudging up the stairs slowly after them, then opening the door and walking in without so much as a nod to Stirling, had little to say. Geoffrey tried to speak but could barely croak out the words.

“Father . . . Father,” he tried to begin.

“Don’t try to speak, boy,” said Gifford. “You just get your rest. We will talk later.”

“I . . . I want you to know—” struggled Geoffrey.

But he could not continue. The words of love with which his heart was full at this final hour of earthly meeting would have to wait until the next life to be spoken.

Downstairs, as millings and sighs and tearful whisperings continued, a bleary-eyed Wenda Polkinghorne and Sarah Minsterly kept tea and food coming, the only way they knew to be of service to Geoffrey’s family and friends. But few appetites were working to capacity.

Geoffrey drifted in and out of sleep throughout the evening. Visitors came and went, but he said little. Toward the end he seemed hardly aware of them.

A little before midnight, a change came. Dr. Armbruster gently aroused Amanda and Catharine, who had both dozed off in two of the chairs in Geoffrey’s room, then went to find Stirling and Jocelyn. Jocelyn immediately went to the guest room where Gifford and Martha had retired a short while ago. After knocking lightly, she opened the door a crack.

“Cousin Gifford . . . Martha,” she said, “Dr. Armbruster thinks you should come.”

An hour later, Geoffrey slipped away.