Pina proceeded to undress her mistress, turning her about very gently on the bed, until she had freed all her fastenings so as to give her lungs the fullest play. Then she applied the usual potent stimulants, and after much patient effort, she had the pleasure of seeing the little lady open her eyes.
But Drusilla recovered her senses only to fall into the most violent paroxysms of grief and despair. Convulsive sobs shook her whole frame; bitter groans burst from her lips; tears gushed in torrents from her eyes. As her passion of grief arose, she wrung her hands, and writhed, and threw herself from side to side, moaning piteously. Then in her frenzy of despair, she sprang up and began walking about the room, striking her hands together, and uttering piercing cries.
In truth, hers was not a mute grief. Your “silent sorrow” belongs to a little later period of life, when years have taught the sufferer such resignation that she will “die and make no sign.” But on this stricken young wife a blow had fallen, heavy enough to crush the strongest woman, while she was yet little more than a child. And she felt it with all a child’s intense sensibility, and she grieved with a child’s excessive vehemence.
Vainly her maid tried to restrain her or to comfort her, Pina followed her mistress up and down the room, weeping for company, and pleading with her—
“Oh, mist’ess darling, don’t take on so dreadful! Don’t mist’ess, that’s a dear! Oh, what has happened? Tell your true servant, who never left you but only once, and never will do so wicked an act again, never, if there’s twenty robbers in the house. Oh, mist’ess, what’s the matter?”
“Oh, girl, girl, he has left me, he has left me forever,” cried the poor young wife, with another gush of tears.
And it showed how utterly abject and self-abandoned she was in her profound and terrible sorrow, when she could forget her dignity, and make complaint in the presence of her youthful servant.
“He has left me, Pina! Oh, he has left me forever!” she repeated, wringing her hands and sobbing violently. “He has gone, he has gone for good!”
“Blest if I don’t think it is for good! and a good riddance of uncommon bad rubbish!” grumbled the girl in a low voice; but she did not dare to let her words be heard.
“Oh, what shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?” cried the wretched wife, walking wildly about the room and wringing her hands. “He has left me forever! forever and ever!”