"You are not Miranda," he said, accusing the shape of his brain. "She smiled, but she did not smile like that."
The girl could no longer endure it. She went from the room, and, till Mrs. Paragon came, the farmer's wife sat beside him.
XXV
Mrs. Paragon arrived late in the afternoon. Peter could not be made to perceive her, and a physician was sent for from London.
Mrs. Paragon sat with Peter through the night, stifling her fear. His talk perplexed her in the extreme. The empty house where he wandered became as real to her as the room in which she sat. He had gone there to find Miranda, and this it was that so grieved and puzzled his mother. Peter had never once spoken of Miranda since the night he had arranged to go to London for the first time. She did not think he had of late thought of Miranda. Had he been eating his heart in secret?
The farmer's granddaughter waited upon Mrs. Paragon through the night. They talked only of his condition, but Mrs. Paragon noted her extreme interest in the patient.
Towards the morning they were together by the bedside. Peter had begun again to talk, and Mrs. Paragon suddenly saw the girl shrink away. Then almost immediately she turned and left the room.
Mrs. Paragon bent to listen. Peter was treading again the weary round of his thoughts of the preceding day. After a few moments his mother's face became very thoughtful.