"Not now," said Howard, "not now."
Maud gave him a nod, in her old way, just the ghost of a nod; and then just put her face beside his own, and lay in silence, till he was called away. Then she kissed his hand as he bent over her, and said, "Don't be afraid, dearest—I am coming back—it is like a great staircase, with light at the top. I went just to the edge—it's full of sweet sound there, and now I am coming down again. Those are my dreams," she added; "I am not out of my dreams yet."
Howard went out, waving his hand; he found Mrs. Graves beside him.
"Yes," she said, "I have no more fear."
Howard was suddenly seized with faintness, uncontrollable dizziness. Mrs. Graves took him to the library, and made him sit down, but his weakness continued in spite of himself.
"I really am ashamed of myself," he said, "for this dreadful exhibition."
"Exhibition!" said Mrs. Graves, "it's the best thing that can happen. I must tell you that I have been even more anxious about you than Maud, because you either couldn't or wouldn't break down—those are the people who are in danger at a time like this! Why the sight of you has half killed me, dear boy! If you had ever said you were miserable, or been rude or irritable, or forgotten yourself for a moment, I should have been happier. It's very chivalrous and considerate, of course; though you will say that you didn't think of that; but it's hardly human—and now at last I see you are flesh and blood again."
"Well, I am not sure that it isn't what I thought about you," said Howard.
"Ah," said Mrs. Graves, "I am an old woman; and I don't think death is so terrible to me. Life is interesting enough, but I should often be glad to get away; there is something beyond that is a good deal easier and more beautiful. But I don't expect you to feel that."
"You think she will get well?" said Howard faintly.