'No, it is not well, sir,' replied the doctor.
'You have seen my mother?' said Adeline, catching hold of the arm of the sofa for support: and in an instant Glenmurray was by her side.
'I have seen Mrs Mowbray, but not your mother: for I have seen a woman dead to every graceful impulse of maternal affection, and alive only to a selfish sense of rivalship and hatred. My poor child! God forgive the deluded woman! But I declare she detests you!'
'Detests me?' exclaimed Adeline.
'Yes; she swears that she can never forgive the preference which that vile fellow gave you, and I am convinced that she will keep her word;' and here the doctor, turning round, saw Adeline lying immoveable in Glenmurray's arms. But she did not long remain so, and with a frantic scream kept repeating the words 'She detests me!' till unable to contend any longer with the acuteness of her feelings, she sunk, sobbing convulsively, exhausted on the bed to which they carried her.
'My good friend, my only friend,' cried Glenmurray, 'what is to be done? Will she scream again, think you, in that most dreadful and unheard-of manner? For, if she does, I must run out of the house.'
'What, then, she never treated you in this pretty way before, heh?'
'Never, never. Her self-command has always been exemplary.'
'Indeed?—Lucky fellow! My wife and daughters often scream just as loud, on very trifling occasions: but that scream went to my heart; for I well know how to distinguish between the shriek of agony and that of passion.'
When Adeline recovered, she ardently conjured Dr Norberry to procure her an interview with her mother; contending that it was absolutely impossible to suppose, that the sight of a child so long and tenderly loved should not renew a little of her now dormant affection.