“I thought so. I had glimpses of consciousness when I saw you by my bed, and that did not perplex me, because I knew, of course, that you were always here. But sometimes, in those same glimpses, I seemed to see Justin, and before I could confirm the impression, I was snatched away again from all knowledge of surrounding things. When did he come?”
“Yesterday, a few hours before Britomarte’s arrival,” said Elfie.
“It is very early in the morning now?” inquired Erminie.
“The sun is just rising.”
“And Justin is not up yet. When he rises, let him know that I want to see him. And now I must rest, please,” said Erminie.
Britomarte and Elfie between them raised her up. Britomarte supported her, while Elfie turned and beat up the pillows, and straightened the sheet. And then they laid her comfortably down, and made all tidy around her while she fell asleep.
Then Catherine was called to watch the sleeper, while Britomarte and Elfie went to make their morning toilets, and to take the early breakfast of which they stood so much in need.
Meanwhile the news of Erminie’s convalescence spread through the house, filling every heart with surprise and joy, for every member of the household dearly loved the amiable young mistress.
Old Bob, taking up “Mr. Justin’s” hot water, gladdened the brother’s heart with the intelligence of his sister’s rescue from the grave.
And Colonel Rosenthal hastened through his morning exercises, and hurried down into the library, where he found Britomarte and Elfie at breakfast.