"Lesley!" she breathed. "I want Lesley."
"Oh, my dearest child, you must do without Lesley now. It is not fit that she should come to you."
But Ethel's lips again formed the same sounds: "I want Lesley." And the old lady continued—
"She must not come, dear: you cannot see Lesley Brooke again. It is her father who has done this terrible thing—blighted your life—destroyed your happiness——"
And so she would have babbled on had not Ethel all at once raised herself in her bed, with white face and flaming eyes, and called in tones as clear and resonant as ever—
"Lesley! Lesley! come back!"
And then the old aunt was silent: silent and amazed.
From the next room Lesley came, softly and swiftly as was her wont. Her face was pale, but her eyes and lips were steady. She went straight to Ethel; was at once encircled by the girl's arms, and drew Ethel's head down upon her shoulder.
"Shall I go?" she whispered in Ethel's ear.
"No, no; don't leave me."