"Lotty, you do not think her so ill as that, do you?" I faltered.
"So ill as what, you silly thing?" she answered, turning and looking at me. "Why, how pale you are, Mechie! How can you be so absurd as to catch up my words and misinterpret them in that hasty way? I don't know anything about illness; how should I? I was always aware, of course, that aunt was more or less delicate, but had no idea that she laboured under any really serious disease until you told me; and all I meant to say was that, such being the case, it is unwise for her to have placed herself in the position she has done, and it might prove very distressing to us."
"Oh, I am so glad you meant nothing more, Lotty!" I answered, feeling immensely relieved by this explanation. "You often see the truth much quicker than I do, and the thought agonized me that perhaps you perceived her to be worse than I suspected or than she is herself aware of. But, Lotty," I continued, changing the too painful subject, "to return to what you were before complaining of—the want of a lady's maid—can't I help you? I will gladly dress you if you like, and get out your clothes if you will just tell me always what you require."
"Well, unquestionably such an arrangement would render my disagreeable position much more bearable to me until Susan comes," replied Charlotte, condescendingly; "so thank you, Mechie; it is well thought of on your part, and I very gladly accept your offer; for, between ourselves, if there is one thing I dislike more than another it is trouble."
And yet, I thought, I have often seen Charlotte bestow an amount of time and trouble on trifling matters in which pleasure was concerned sufficient utterly to exhaust me, and she did not seem to feel it a bit.
CHAPTER XII.
After dinner, uncle, Charlotte and I set off to clear up the mystery of the strange animal we had seen under the bushes. It was daylight now and the way easily traced and soon I distinguished the identical bush beneath which it was sheltering itself. And yes, there it was still, sure enough, and only a poor dog, after all—a huge creature, now stretched out dead and stark, a gunshot wound in its side declaring the cause of its death. It was a splendid, great animal, and in good condition; who, therefore, could have killed it, and why? So we questioned of each other. Uncle and Charlotte preferred continuing their walk over the flats, but as I wished to return to aunt on the balcony, they saw me in safety to the little bridge, and then left me.