A sigh, patient, but hopeless. I took an opportunity of examining her closely, to judge how long her self-control was likely to last; or whether, after this great shock and weary night-watch, her physical strength would fail. So looking, I noticed a few blood-drops trickling over her forehead, oozing from under her hair:—
“What is this?”
“Oh, nothing. I struck myself as we were lifting papa from the carriage. I thought it had ceased bleeding.”
“Let me look at it a moment. There—I shall not hurt you.”
“Oh, no. I am not afraid.”
I cut the hair from round the place, and plastered it up. It hardly took a minute; was the smallest of surgical operations; yet she trembled. I saw her strength was beginning to yield; and she might need it all.
“Now, you must go and lie down for an hour.”
She shook her head.
“You must.”
There might have been something harsh in the words—I did not quite know what I was saying—for she looked surprised.