Patient's remedies applied, Lady Ingram partly recovered herself in a few minutes. Edward was by her side when she again opened her eyes. They rested for an instant on him and on Celia, and closed again with a long tremulous sigh which seemed to come from her heart.
"If you will please to give me orders, Madam," said Patient, quietly, to Celia, "I think her Ladyship will be best in her bed, and she scarce seems knowledgeable to give orders herself. Will I and Thérèsa lay her there?"
Celia spoke to Lady Ingram, but received no answer, and she gave Patient the order. So Patient and Thérèse undressed the still figure and laid her to rest. Lady Ingram continued to sleep or swoon, whichever it were; she seemed occasionally sensible to pain, but not to sound, nor did she appear to know who was about her.
About ten o'clock, Celia, seated at her step-mother's bed-side, heard a regular tramp of soldiers' feet below, and knew too well what they must be bringing. A few minutes afterwards her brother softly entered the room.
"Celia, they have brought Philip here. Will you come and see him?"
She hesitated a minute, half for Lady Ingram, and half for herself.
"There is nothing painful or shocking, dear; I would not ask you if there were. Would you like to see him again or not?"
Celia rose and gave Edward her hand. He led her silently down to the dining-room, leaving her to go in the first by herself and kneel beside the still, white clay which only five hours earlier had been Philip Ingram.
Ah! if she only could have known, what might she not have said to him! Had she said enough? Had she done her duty?—her utmost? Had she pressed Christ and His salvation on him as she ought to have done? Where was Philip now?
"Oh, that had! how sad a passage 'tis!"[[19]]