Caroline ran for a goblet of water, and held it to those white lips. The countess drank a swallow and then called out:
"Wine! wine!"
Wine was brought, and she drank a little.
"Go, my child," she whispered, seeing how anxious and pale Clara appeared, in spite of the cloudy softness of her dress. "Go to your room and get some rest. Ah, me! how all this wearies, wearies!"
The two girls hesitated. There was something in that sweet old face that kept them spellbound. The old lady saw it, and reaching forth her hand, drew them, one after the other, down to her lips, and kissed them.
"Good-night, good-night!"
How softly those gentle words fell from her lips. With what yearning fondness her eyes followed those young creatures as they went reluctantly from the room, looking back in wistful sorrow, as they left her in the care of Yates.
CHAPTER XXXV.
LADY HOPE IN THE CASTLE.
Lady Clara had been dancing, talking and receiving such homage as would have satisfied the ambition of a princess. She had managed to snatch time to exchange many a sweet word and bright look with her lover, and would have been happy in delicious weariness, but for the sudden indisposition which had fallen upon her grandmother. As it was she could hardly realize anything, but gave way to intense weariness, and almost fell asleep as Margaret was undressing her.