"Will you kiss me once more, Margaret?" he had asked, faintly, and she had stooped over him again and kissed his forehead and eyes, and then gently bade God bless him.
Was this a woman he had loved or an angel, Hugh wondered, as she closed the door and left him alone in the sunlight; but he was too weak to carry out the thought. When the nurse came to his side he had fallen into a refreshing sleep.
As Margaret crossed the threshold of the dressing-room she caught sight of a listless little figure sitting in one of the deep window-seats of the corridor. There was something in her attitude that struck Margaret--an air of deep dejection, of utter forlornness, that went to her heart. The beautiful little head seemed drooping with weariness; but as she went closer and saw the wan face and the baby mouth quivering, with the under lip pressed like a child's in pain, she gave an involuntary exclamation. She would not suffer, Hugh had said, she was so young and innocent; and now--the angels comfort your broken heart, sweet Fay.
"Hush!" she said, turning round as she heard Margaret's voice; "we must not talk here, it would disturb him, and he must be kept very quiet--oh! very quiet, Doctor Conway says. Come in here, if you wish to speak to me," and she led the way into her little room. "Will you sit down?" she went on, with the same passive gentleness; "you were good to come, but--but--it must have tired you."
"Oh! Lady Redmond--" But here Margaret could say no more. She seemed to have no strength left for this; she felt as though her calmness and fortitude were deserting her.
"I told Doctor Conway that you were coming, and he thought it would do no harm, and Doctor Martin said the same. He knows you, he says, and he was sure that you would be very wise and quiet, that you would not excite him. No, do not tell me anything about it. I--I can trust you, and Hugh would not like me to know."
"Indeed you are mistaken," began Margaret, eagerly, but Fay checked her with a little dignity.
"Never mind that. Do you know, Miss Ferrers, that Doctor Conway says that my husband is better, that he will not die, it is only weakness and a nervous fancy; but though he is so slow in getting well, they notice a gradual improvement."
