“Got what?” she asked.
At the sound of her voice, hollow and strained, Lady Wyndover swung round, and she uttered an exclamation as she saw the white, drawn face.
“Good heavens, child! what is the matter? Barker, the—the water—some brandy! Are you ill—do you feel faint? Oh, dear, dear!”
They gathered round her, and Barker sprung to a table for water, and held it to Esmeralda’s lips.
She put it from her gently and set her teeth hard. At any cost they must not know anything; they must not even know that she was suffering.
“I am all right,” she said, forcing a smile. “I feel a little faint just now. Yes, give me some wine—brandy—anything.”
Barker flew out of the room and returned with some champagne, and Esmeralda drank a glass slowly. They all saw that she shook like a leaf. Lilias knelt beside her and held her hand.
“What is it, dear?” she asked, with loving anxiety. “You have kept up so well until now.”
“That is it,” said Lady Wyndover, hovering over them with sal volatile in one hand and a fan in the other. “I said that such calmness and sang-froid were—were unnatural, and I felt sure that she would pay for it and break down later on. Well, it’s better that it should come now, that it is all over, than in the middle of the ceremony.”
“All over! Yes, it is all over; it is too late now,” thought Esmeralda.