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278 the pale pillows propping her hueless form, and but a single sheet thrown over her, as though she were so heart overladen, that her white body could not bear one added feather. And as in any snowy marble statue, the drapery clings to the limbs; so as one found drowned, the thin, defining sheet invested Lucy.

'It is Mrs. Glendinning. Will you speak to her, Miss Lucy?'

The thin lips moved and trembled for a moment, and then were still again, and augmented pallor shrouded her.

Martha brought restoratives; and when all was as before, she made a gesture for the lady to depart, and in a whisper, said, 'She will not speak to any; she does not speak to me. The doctor has just left—he has been here five times since morning—and says she must be kept entirely quiet.' Then pointing to the stand, added, 'You see what he has left—mere restoratives. Quiet is her best medicine now, he says. Quiet, quiet, quiet! Oh, sweet quiet, wilt thou now ever come?'

'Has Mrs. Tartan been written to?' whispered the lady. Martha nodded.

So the lady moved to quit the room, saying that once every two hours she would send to know how Lucy fared.

'But where, where is her aunt, Martha?' she exclaimed, lowly, pausing at the door, and glancing in sudden astonishment about the room; 'surely, surely, Mrs. Llanyllyn——'

'Poor, poor old lady,' weepingly whispered Martha, 'she hath caught infection from sweet Lucy's woe; she hurried hither, caught one glimpse of that bed, and fell like dead upon the floor. The doctor hath two patients now, lady'—glancing at the bed, and tenderly feeling Lucy's bosom, to mark if yet it heaved. 'Alack! alack! oh, reptile! reptile! that could sting so sweet a breast! fire would be too cold for him—accursed!'