It was late in the afternoon when Sybil and her devoted friend were transferred to the new quarters.
"What is this for?" inquired Sybil, rousing herself a little, when she found she was about to be removed.
"Oh, you know, dear, that we have been sleeping in the daughter's room, and keeping her out of it, and now she wants her own, and so they have fixed up another one for us," said Miss Pendleton, soothingly, as she drew her friend's arm within her own and led her on after the warden, who walked before them with a large bunch of keys in his hand.
"Why, here are all my things!" said Sybil, startled to unusual interest by the sight of her personal effects arranged in the new cell.
"Yes, dear," whispered Miss Pendleton, as she put Sybil gently down into the rocking-chair--"yes, dear. You know Lyon fears that it will be some time before you are able to go home, and these people are too poor to make you comfortable, so he sent these things for them to fix up this room for you."
"Beatrix," said Sybil, putting her hands up to her temples.
"No; but it is so queer; and I have had a horrid dream--oh! a horrid, ghastly dream; but I can't recall it."
"Don't try, my darling; you took cold in the storm last night, and you are not well now; so turn your thoughts away from your disagreeable dream, and fix them upon something else," said Beatrix soothingly, although at heart she was very much alarmed, as it was probable that the sight of her favorite little effects had started a train of associations that might bring her back to perfect sanity and to utter agony.
At that moment, too, there was a diversion. Lyon Berners entered the cell, bringing in a basket of fruit and flowers.
"From your own garden and conservatories, my dear Sybil. Until you are well enough to go home, you must have some of your home comforts brought here," he said, as he set the elegant basket down on a stand, and went and embraced her.
"Yes; thank you very much, dear Lyon. When do you think I will be well enough to go home?" she asked, and then, without giving the slightest attention to her husband's affectionate answer, she dropped at once into a deep and dreamy state of abstraction.
Miss Pendleton beckoned Mr. Berners to come to her at one of the windows.