"Dying, I think; dying, I hope! Let some one help me to my room," she murmured.
Dr. Jones at once lifted her in his arms and bore her upstairs, preceded by Electra, who flew on before to show the way to Mary Grey's room, and followed by Emma Cavendish, who still blamed herself for the invalid's supposed relapse.
Dr. Jones laid her on her bed, and was about to leave her to the care of Emma and Electra, when she seized his hand and drew him down to her face and said:
"I wish to speak to you for a moment now. Send Miss Cavendish and Miss Coroni out of the room for a little while."
"My dear children, go away for a moment. Mrs. Grey wishes to speak to me alone," said Dr. Jones.
And Emma and Electra softly retired, with the belief that Mary Grey only wished to consult the minister on religious subjects.
As soon as the door was closed behind them Mary Grey seized the old man's hand and, fixing her great black eyes fiercely upon him, demanded:
"Do they suspect?"
"No; certainly not."
"Did you drop no word during my swoon that might have led them to suspect?"