'Yes, mother.'
'What are you doing, dear child?'
'Working, mother.'
I scarcely dared to raise my eyes, and I waited anxiously for her to speak again.
'It is late, my child.'
'Not very, mother. The night was so beautiful, and I had such a long rest this morning, that I thought I would work for an hour or two upon some pictures I have to get done quickly.' I spoke calmly and softly and cheerfully. 'I thought you were asleep, mother.'
'I have lain for some time watching you, my darling, and wondering whether this was not all a dream.'
'A dream, mother!' I said, and I went to her side, and passed my arm under her neck. 'No, it is not a dream.' She gazed at me long and earnestly.
'Where are we, dear child?'
'In the country, at Hertford. You were not very well, and I brought you down here to nurse you into health again.'