"Come in and see him yourself."
"Is he asleep?"
"I wish he could sleep. Come and speak to him, Shirley."
"He would not like it."
But the speaker stepped in, and Henry, seeing her hesitate on the threshold, took her hand and drew her to the couch.
The shaded light showed Miss Keeldar's form but imperfectly; yet it revealed her in elegant attire. There was a party assembled below, including Sir Philip Nunnely; the ladies were now in the drawing-room, and their hostess had stolen from them to visit Henry's tutor. Her pure white dress, her fair arms and neck, the trembling chainlet of gold circling her throat and quivering on her breast, glistened strangely amid the obscurity of the sickroom. Her mien was chastened and pensive. She spoke gently.
"Mr. Moore, how are you to-night?"
"I have not been very ill, and am now better."
"I heard that you complained of thirst. I have brought you some grapes; can you taste one?"
"No; but I thank you for remembering me."