“No, no, Zuleime, I wish to sleep,” said Carolyn, still pressing both hands to her throbbing temples.
“Well, then, dear Carolyn, let me undress you, you can never compose yourself in that dress;” and the affectionate girl began to take off her slippers and stockings, saying—“I can take off all the small articles, and unlace your stomacher without disturbing you, sister, and then you need not stand up more than a minute to disrobe.”
In indifference or abstraction, Miss Clifton permitted the gentle girl to unclasp all her jewels, and loosen her dress, without ever removing her hands, clasped tightly upon her temples, till Zuleime, wishing to take down the elaborate coiffure, gently withdrew them, and unwound the strings of pearls, and unfastened the plume of feathers. When the affectionate girl had laid aside all these glittering gewgaws, and freed her long, fair hair, and relieved her oppressed and fevered head, the proud and scornful Carolyn, subdued by the gentleness of her sweet, only sister, looked in her face, read there a strange sympathy, delicate as it was deep, and suddenly put her arms around her neck, drew her head down to her own, and kissed her fondly, murmuring—
“Oh, Zuleime! my child, my child! if you knew—”
“I do know, dearest Carolyn! Dearest sister, I do know it all! all! and feel it—feel it from the bottom of my heart! That is the reason I came in, Carolyn! But I did not come in to disturb you, even by my sympathy. I came in to put you to sleep. Stand up, dearest Carolyn, and drop these heavy robes, and I will throw this light wrapper around you, and then you can lie down again—there!”
“Oh! sleep!—when shall I sleep again?” bitterly asked Carolyn, as Zuleime laid her head tenderly back upon the freshened pillow.
“Well, don’t talk, dear Carolyn, and you will see that God will send sleep.” And Zuleime cooled her brow by passing over it several times a lump of ice in a napkin, and laid down by her side, and fanned her, in that measured, monotonous time, so inducive to slumber. So slowly she fanned her, resisting all her attempts to enter into conversation, until wearied nature yielded, and Carolyn was asleep. Then, as it was morning, Zuleime hoisted the windows, to admit a fresh current of air, but left the blinds closed, to exclude the light. Next, she put all Carolyn’s things carefully away, and silently restored the room to order. Then she laid a folded napkin, dipped in ice water, over the still burning brow, and cautiously left the room, to go and order tea and toast to be ready for Carolyn as soon as she should awake. She found the house below stairs in a great but comparatively silent bustle. The servants, who had scarcely retired the night previous, were engaged in clearing away the disorder of the saloon, parlor and dining-room, and in laying the cloth for breakfast for the numerous visitors who had remained over night. Zuleime passed on to the kitchen, and gave her orders, and then silently stole up stairs again to her sister’s room.
Carolyn slept long and heavily. Several hours passed before she awoke. When she opened her eyes, and fixed them gratefully upon Zuleime, she raised her arms, again embraced her, saying—
“You have comforted me, dear Zuleime.”
“And I will comfort you more, dear sister. I know how to do it. How do you feel, Carolyn?”