CHAPTER XLV.

BAFFLED AND DEFEATED.

It seemed an eternity before Lottie came back, yet she had not been

absent three minutes. She came alone, and stood by me at the door,

regarding Mrs. Dennison's movements with the keen vigilance of a fox.

But a glimpse of Mrs. Lee's face made her start forward with a cry of

dismay.

"My mistress, she is dead! They have killed her!"

She would have fallen upon her knees by the bed, but Mrs. Dennison put

her aside. It was an easy thing, for Lottie had lost all her strength in

that terrible fear.

"Foolish child! she has only fainted," said Mrs. Dennison, holding her

back; "the air will bring her to."

Lottie's courage returned with these words, and struggling from Mrs.

Dennison's hold, she sat down upon the bed, chafing Mrs. Lee's cold

hands and kissing them with loving tenderness.

"Is she really and truly alive?" said the poor girl, appealing to me.

I could not resist the wistful anxiety of that look, but came forward,

holding my breath, with a dread that her fears might be true.

That moment Mr. Lee entered the room, and directly came Jessie, with a

look of terror on her face. She trembled like a leaf at the sight of

her mother, and turned to me, looking the question which she could not

frame in speech.

"It is not death! I hope and believe that it is not death!" I said.

Jessie fell upon a chair and burst into tears.

"Hush, child!" said her father; "let us learn what has happened. Mrs.

Dennison, can you tell me?"

"I hardly know myself," answered the widow, innocently. "I heard moans

and a cry for help coming from this room, and, springing up from my

sleep, ran to see what it meant. There was no light in the room, but I

felt that Mrs. Lee was cold and still as she lies now--alive, but

motionless. I had snatched a bottle from my toilet, and was bathing her

head with its contents, when Miss Hyde and the servant came in. They

were very much terrified, and alarmed the house, I hope unnecessarily.

It is a deep fainting fit. I am sure she will come out safely in time."

As the woman said this, Lottie stood looking in her face, dumb with

astonishment. She saw the red flask in Mrs. Dennison's hand, felt the

changed atmosphere of the room, and, for once, her presence of mind gave

way.

"Poor thing! she was half frightened to death," said Mrs. Dennison,

casting a patronizing glance at the crestfallen girl, "I never saw

anything so wild in my life."

"And I never saw anything so wicked!" Lottie burst forth, clinching her

hands and almost shaking them at the woman.

"Wicked! Oh, not so bad as that, my good girl," said the woman, gently.

"One can be frightened, you know, without being wicked."

"Yes," said Lottie, with a sob, "and a person can be wicked without

being frightened, I know that well enough."

"Lottie!" exclaimed Mr. Lee.

Lottie stood for one instant like a wild animal at bay; but directly her

eyes fell upon her mistress, her form relaxed, and, creeping to the

bedside, she began to cry.

"Oh, bring her to! bring her to! and I won't say another word," she

pleaded, looking piteously at the widow.

"I am not omnipotent, poor child!" was the sweet reply. "But see! I

think there is a movement of her eyelids."

Lottie rose from her knees and looked eagerly in that worn face. "Yes,

yes, she is alive; she is coming to herself. Oh, my mistress! my

mistress! I will never, never leave you again. I'll sleep on the floor

at the foot of your bed, like a dog, before anybody reaches you!"

Tears rained down poor Lottie's face, and her voice was so full of grief

that no one had the heart to chide her, though it seemed to disturb the

invalid, who was slowly recovering consciousness.

Mrs. Lee at last opened her eyes, and looked vaguely around at the

people near her bed, without seeming to recognize them; when Lottie

caught her vacant gaze, she burst forth,--

"Oh, ma'am, don't you know me? It's Lottie--it's Lottie!"

This pathetic cry gained no response. Those dreamy eyes wandered from

face to face, with a helpless, appealing look indescribably touching.

Jessie bent over her mother, striving to make herself known; but her

sweet voice passed unheeded. Every kind effort failed to draw her from

this dull state of half-consciousness, till Mr. Lee passed his arm under

her head and drew it to his bosom. Then a thrill seemed to pass through

her whole frame, a smile dawned on her pale mouth.

"Have I been ill?" she murmured, resting her head against the bosom to

which he gently lifted her,--"very ill, that you all come here in the

night?"

"Yes," answered Mr. Lee, very tenderly; for he seemed to forget

everything in her danger. "But for our kind guest, I fear it might have

gone hard with you."

Lottie, who was crouching at her mistress' feet, with her face buried in

the bed-clothes, uttered a sudden, "Oh! oh! I can't bear it!" and,

starting up, rushed into her room, looking at Mrs. Dennison over her

shoulders like a wild cat.

"Poor Lottie!" muttered Mrs. Lee. "How it troubles her to see any one

suffer! And you, my kind guest--"

The gentle lady held out her hand to Mrs. Dennison, smiling wanly, but

too feeble for any other expression of gratitude.

"Mamma," said Jessie, quickly, "do not try to speak, but rest. This has

been a terrible attack."

"You here, my child, and I not know it!" whispered the invalid; "forgive

me."

Mrs. Dennison pressed forward; but Jessie stepped between her and the

invalid, not rudely, but with quiet decision which became the daughter

of that proud man.

"Aunt Matty," she said, glancing past the widow, "had you not better

leave her to papa and me? So many faces excite her."

Jessie was very pale, and I saw that her lips were quivering with

agitation. Something had wounded her almost beyond bearing.

"Yes," I answered, promptly, "we will withdraw;" and, looking at Mrs.

Dennison steadily, I waited for her to move first.

"This may be of service," she said, sweetly, placing the ruby-tinted

bottle in Jessie's hand. "I found it very useful in reviving her."

Jessie took the bottle, but set it down at once. Indeed, her hand shook

so violently that it must otherwise have fallen.

"Now, Miss Hyde, I do not see that our presence will be of further use,"

said the widow, gliding toward the door.

I stepped back to avoid contact even with her garments. My heart was

full of bitter loathing. I grew cold as she passed me, and answered her

smile with a look that frightened it from her lips. We passed through

Lottie's room, but I could not force myself to enter it till even her

shadow had disappeared.

Wives and Widows; or, The Broken Life · 第 45 / 77 章