"Your wife is ill, sir, very ill—I fear dying."
He left that woman standing alone in her cowardly sin, and went swiftly, as his daughter had done, toward the tower-room. Mrs. Dennison gave a light scream and followed, demanding of me how it had happened, and who had been near to harm the dear saint.
I gave her no answer. The very sound of her voice made me shudder with fresh loathing. She had been pale for a moment, but now all the fire came into her countenance again, and she passed me haughtily, saying,—
"Stupid as ever—I will inquire for myself."
CHAPTER LIII.
DEATH IN THE TOWER-CHAMBER.
The woman did inquire, and the very sound of her voice made the poor victim on the bed shake till the counterpane moved like snow disturbed by the wind. Jessie was holding the pale hand, and, feeling it quiver, she clasped it closer, and said to Mrs. Dennison,—
"Madam, your voice troubles my mother; please to leave us alone."
Mr. Lee looked from his daughter to the woman; but it was no time for anger—he only lifted one hand to deprecate further noise, and bent over his wife with such solemn tenderness in his eyes as I had never seen there before.