‘Have I been dreaming? Have I been saying anything? Oh! I am so sorry,’ she said apologetically, as she caught up the child and held it to her breast.
‘You have only been talking a little in your sleep,’ I replied soothingly; ‘don’t be alarmed; you said nothing out of the common way, and there is no one here but myself.’
She did not answer, but as she held the child I saw how her arms trembled.
‘Your agitation is the worst thing possible for the baby, you know; and you must try and calm yourself for his sake,’ I continued.
‘I should be so sorry to hurt him,’ she murmured; ‘and I will try and not dream again, if it is possible.’
‘Shall I fetch you anything?’
‘Oh no, madam, thank you. The best thing I can do is to go to sleep again. There is nothing for me but sleep—and prayer,’ she added in a whisper.
I felt deeply interested in this young woman. There was an air of patient mournfulness about her that betokened deep suffering; and as I returned to my room I resolved to do my best to be of use to her. She so completely occupied my thoughts, indeed, that I had forgotten all about the ghost, till Bessie asked me how I could possibly walk through the corridor with so composed a step.
‘My dear, I was thinking about baby and his nurse, and quite forgot to be frightened. Yes, they are all right now, and going to sleep again comfortably; and I think the ghost must have followed their example, for certainly there were no signs of its presence as I returned: so I think we had better try to make up for our broken rest by a few hours’ sleep.’
Bessie was quite ready to do so; but for my own part I lay awake until the loitering dawn broke through the shuttered windows.