The words ran through Helen's bewildered head and repeated themselves again and again. Cyril, whom she had loved so dearly and belived in so faithfully had gone away, left her alone in the cruel heartless world; Cyril whom she had never even had course or reason to call dishonourable had written himself to ask her to try and forgive him. What did it mean? And the story, where was the story?" The room seemed to swim round;" we shall not meet again, "try and forgive me" The story where is the story? And then all was darkness and Helen remembered no more.
CHAPTER 26
A REMOVAL TO PORTMAN SQUARE
When Helen recovered she found herself lying in a large comfortable bed propped up with pillows. The room was large, cheerful and beautifully furnished. A small table covered with a white cloth was by the bedside with medicine bottles upon it. A bright fire burnt in the grate. The blinds were down and warm red curtains pulled across the large bow window.
A small lamp was carefully placed where no light or glare could reach the bed and the very atmosphere of the room spoke of extreme comfort.
A nurse, in a white cap and apron was gliding noislessly about the room arranging things here and there.
For a moment Helen lay quite still staring about her plerpexedly, but on making a slight movement in the bed the nurse turned round, "So you are awake at last miss?" she said in a slow gentle voice, "do you know you have slept quite quietly for three hours."
"Where are am I?" asked Helen gazing from the kind face of the nurse around the strange room.
"You are in Lord Beaufort's house in Portman Square" replied the nurse.