No wonder Mr. Lee started as if he had seen a ghost, when I crept by him in the passage leading to his wife's chamber, the first time that I was permitted to move from my room. The color mounted to his face. He paused, turned back and gave me his hand, striving to smile.
I could not touch his hand, or even attempt to smile. He had wounded me too deeply for that.
"My dear Miss Hyde," he said, dropping the hand which I had no strength to touch, "no one can be more rejoiced than I am at your recovery. Pray forget everything that might make you think otherwise; it was all a misunderstanding."
I did not speak, but tears swelled into my eyes, and I turned away wounded a second time by his confused explanation.
Mrs. Lee was so overjoyed to have me with her again. She looked much better, and seemed more cheerful than I had seen her since Mrs. Dennison's advent in the family.
Mrs. Dennison came into the chamber while I was there. She recognized me with careless politeness, called my attention to the improvement in Mrs. Lee, and, in a thousand adroit ways, triumphed in showing me how completely I was crowded out from my place in the household—even in that sick-chamber, where my chief usefulness lay.
I was feeble and unduly sensitive, or this conduct would not have wounded me so keenly as it did. Spite of myself, the pain of this interview would make itself visible; so I arose and went into Lottie's room, for my strength availed no farther than that.
The young girl sat quietly in her little domicile close by the door, sewing upon some second-hand finery, but with every stitch she cast a vigilant glance into Mrs. Lee's chamber, as if such watchfulness had become a habit, of which she was herself unconscious.
Lottie was always exceedingly repugnant to permitting any one into her room; but when she saw me come toward her, looking so miserably feeble, the frown left her face, and, starting up, she arranged the pillows on her little white bed, and, sweeping back the curtains, motioned me to lie down. I fell helplessly on the pretty couch, and she drew the curtains around it, clouding me in lace.
"Do you feel like sleeping?" she whispered.