"Biddy!" she said. "Oh, Biddy, tell them to stop! I can't bear it! I can't bear it!"
Dinah went to the window and closed it, shutting out the haunting strains. That waltz meant something to her also, something with which for the moment she felt she could not cope.
Turning, she saw that Isabel was clinging convulsively to the old nurse, and she was crying, crying, crying, as one who has lost all hope.
"But it's too late to do her any good," mourned Biddy over the bowed head. "It's the tears of a broken heart."
CHAPTER XIV
THE WRATH OF THE GODS
The paroxysm did not last long, and in that fact most poignantly did
Dinah realize the waning strength.
Dumbly she stood and watched Biddy lay the inanimate figure back upon the pillows. Isabel had sunk into a state of exhaustion that was almost torpor.
"She'll sleep now, dear lamb," said Biddy, and tenderly covered her over as though she had been a child.
She turned round to Dinah, looking at her with shrewd darting eyes. "Ye'd better be getting along to your lover, Miss Dinah," she said. "He'll be wanting ye to dance with him."