Nelly takes a bottle from a table at the head of the bed, pours out the medicine, and gives it to the sick lady. As she replaces the bottle, Mr. Temple, with unthinking and cruel audacity, seizes her hand, and kisses it. Lady Temple, with the medicine at her lips does not drink, but gazes suspiciously at Nelly, who cannot keep the colour from her cheeks.
"What sound is that?" asks Lady Temple. "What makes your face so red, Miss Marston?"
Nelly busies herself--her hand being released--about the pillows, and replies:
"You should not gaze at me so strangely. You are full of fancies to-night, Lady Temple."
"Maybe, maybe. Hold up the candle, so that I may see the room--higher, higher!"
Her inquisitive eyes peer before her, but she sees nothing to verify her suspicions, Mr. Temple being safely concealed behind the curtains.
"That will do, Miss Marston. Put down the candle--the glare hurts my eyes. Full of fancies!" she murmurs. "It is true I see shadows; I hear voices: I am not certain at times whether I am awake or asleep. But what I said to you to-day," she exclaims in a louder tone, "is no fancy, Miss Marston."
"There is no occasion for you to repeat it, Lady Temple."
"I am the best judge of that, Miss Marston, and I do not intend to be misunderstood. I tell you now, plainly, that I sent my nephew away because I saw what was going on between you."
"Lady Temple!" cries Nelly indignantly.