She leant back in her chair, the Doctor holding her hand, and standing by her side.
Still Lady Annabel continued sighing deeply: at length she looked up and said, 'Does she love me? Do you think, after all, she loves me?'
'Venetia?' inquired the Doctor, in a low and doubtful voice, for he was greatly perplexed.
'She has seen him; she loves him; she has forgotten her mother.'
'My dear lady, you require rest,' said Doctor Masham. 'You are overcome with strange fancies. Whom has your daughter seen?'
'Marmion.'
'Impossible! you forget he is—'
'Here also. He has spoken to her: she loves him: she will recover: she will fly to him; sooner let us both die!'
'Dear lady!'
'She knows everything. Fate has baffled me; we cannot struggle with fate. She is his child; she is like him; she is not like her mother. Oh! she hates me; I know she hates me.'