“Papa! it is not too good to be true, is it?”
Her father bent down till his lips touched her cheek.
“You are not afraid, my child?”
Afraid! no, it was not fear he saw in those sweet triumphant eyes. Her look never wandered from his face, but it changed soon, and he knew that the King’s messenger was come. Murmuring an inarticulate prayer, he bowed his head in the awful presence, and when he looked again, he saw no more those bonny eyes, but Janet’s toil-worn hand laid over them.
Graeme’s cheek still lay on her sister’s stiffening hand, and when they all rose up, and her father, passing round the couch put his arm about her, she did not move.
“There is no need. Let her rest! it is all over now, the long watching and waiting! let the tired eyelids close, and thank God for the momentary forgetfulness which He has given her.”
Chapter Nineteen.
That night, Graeme slept the dreamless sleep of utter exhaustion, and the next day, whenever her father or Mrs Snow stole in to look at her, she slept or seemed to sleep still.