"Opiates! Indeed, you know that I never take them, Miss Hyde."
I answered with some surprise that I had accounted for the strange feeling which oppressed her by the idea that it must be something of that kind; but omitted to say that Mrs. Dennison had bewailed to me the habit of taking preparations of opium which Mrs. Lee had fallen into.
The invalid seemed a little hurt by this suggestion, and said over and over again in her sweet way,—
"No, no, my dear. It must be terrible pain which can force me to take these things; and thanks to Him and to all the loving care around me, I do not suffer greatly."
"Still you are changed, dear lady," I said. "How, I cannot explain; but in your face I find that look of struggle which you complain of."
"It is oppressive," she said, putting a hand to her forehead, "and I am afraid makes me but dull company. Mr. Lee is not here quite so much as usual: or is that a sick fancy, Miss Hyde?"
I answered with a tremor in my voice, for her earnest look troubled me, that we all thought quiet better for her, even than the pleasant excitement which his company might bring.
She shook her head, and observed with one of her touching smiles, "that it did not help the flowers to keep back the dew when they thirsted for it."
I had no answer; all my petty evasions against her affectionate entreaties were like straw flung on the surface of a brook; I had no heart to attempt more.
She had fallen into silence, and lay shading her eyes with one hand, when Mr. Lee came in with a heavy, ringing step, and a cloud on his face. His wife started up, and her eyes sparkled as she held out her hand.