Hearing steps approaching, Donica recollected herself, and said, locking the room door—
"Don't let them in for a minute."
"Who is she?" inquired the nurse, following Donica's glance.
"Lady Jane Lennox."
The woman looked at her with awe and a little involuntary courtesy, which Lady Jane did not see.
"A relation—a—a sort of a niece like of the poor master—a'most a daughter like, allays."
"Didn't know," whispered the woman, with another faint courtesy; "but she's better out o' this, don't you think, ma'am?"
"Drink a little wine, Miss Jennie, dear," said Donica, holding the glass to her lips. "Won't you, darling?"
She pushed it away gently, and got up, and looked at Sir Jekyl in silence.
"Come away, Miss Jennie, darling, come away, dear, there's people at the door. It's no place for you," said Donica, gently placing her hand under her arm, and drawing her toward the study door. "Come in here, for a minute, with old Donnie."