IN THE EARLY MORNING.
Griselda returned to her room to watch the timepiece, and listen for the striking of the Abbey clock, as the slow hours passed, and she paced the floor in her restlessness from the fireplace to the window, and then back again from the window to the fire.
About ten o'clock Graves came in with a cup of chocolate, and to tell her that Mr. Cheyne, the doctor, had seen Lady Betty, and pronounced her really ill this time. She was to keep in bed, and if not better on the following day, he must let blood from her arm.
"Do you know the doctor, Miss Griselda—this young Doctor Cheyne?"
"I may have spoken to him. Yes, I have seen him; but what is he to me?"
"He asked for you, that's all," said Graves; "how you did, and whether——"
Graves stopped. It was a habit of hers to break off suddenly in her speech, and Griselda scarcely noticed it.
"Is the boy, Brian Bellis, come back?"
"No, Miss Griselda; he won't be here again to-night. I hear he is nephew to the Miss Hoblyns, the mantua-makers, and that they look sharp after him; they would not let him run about the streets at midnight."
"Midnight! It's not midnight! Oh, Graves, I am so tired!"