CHAPTER VI.
I must have remained in this condition some hours, for the sun was high in the heavens when I opened my eyes and became conscious. Where was I? Not in my own room, surely; the fragrance of exotics did not penetrate my lattice; the simple honeysuckle that twined around my window breathed forth a different perfume from this. My heart gave one glad leap. Oh, it is all a dream! I thought; Richard’s galloping down the road, and all the past night’s misery is a dream! With this reflection a happy tranquillity was stealing over me, when I heard a well-known voice exclaim:
“Look, Mary, attend her; she has opened her eyes, thank God.”
It was Mr. Bristed’s voice, and as he spoke Mary approached me, and bending over, bathed my head with scented water. “Hope you feel better, Miss,” said she.
“Have I been ill, Mary? Where am I?”
“In master’s library.”
Surely it was so. I was lying upon a divan near the conservatory. Alas, I was not dreaming! I sat up and looked drearily around, and as I did so Mr. Bristed drew near with a beautiful lily in his hand, which he offered to me. He inquired kindly after my health and looked pleased when I told him I felt quite strong. Indeed I did feel strong for the moment, and arose determined to leave the room.
“Sit still—where are you going?” he asked anxiously.
“Going to the school-room—going to see Herbert,” I replied.
“Herbert,” said he, and his countenance darkened; “you cannot see Herbert, he is ill.”