He would come, let the weather be what it might.
Then she seemed to be overcome with sleep, to awake once more with the pain less and her head clearer.
Drip, drip, drip. The rain still falling, and she felt, in a helpless way, that she must have been to sleep again, and began to wonder how long Gil would be.
It was still intensely dark, and very close and stifling, the heat seemed to be more than she could bear.
How long would Gil be? Poor fellow, how cruelly he must have felt it to hear that she was to wed another, and—yes. Why, had not Janet taken off the wedding-dress before she lay down to sleep.
How bad her head had been. She never remembered to have suffered such pains before; and then that terrible thirst! How horribly she had dreamed, too. She recollected now; a horrible dream. First, Gil had clasped her in his arms; then it was not Gil, but Sir Mark; and even now she shuddered at the thoughts of the grim shade which had come next.
But it was a dream consequent upon the excitement she had gone through; and now she had awakened, and it must be time for Gil to be beneath her window.
She did not attempt to rise, for the strange feeling of stupor still held her, and she lay quite still, till the thought that she might have slept too long came and sent a thrill through her brain, and she started up to listen, becoming conscious of a strange, suffocating odour as of dank, hot mist.
How black it was! She could not see the window, and, with the confused sensation of one waking in the darkness, she sat gazing about and listening.
Still that ceaseless drip, drip, drip, of water, but the gurgle of the water-pipe that went down by the side of the gable was not there, and it suddenly struck her that she could not hear the familiar rushing noise of the race, where the water hurried towards the wheel.