"There is no need for me to speak any more," she said, and her head fell against the satin and gilt chair-back.
"You are ill!" cried Honoria. "Get up, my lady, and take off these wet clothes."
The Countess made no movement, and her maid, who could not see well in this dim light, sprang to the window and pulled back the blinds. The rain of the night was over, the drops gleamed beautifully on the panes and a pale bar of sunlight fell across the chamber and struck the upturned face of the Countess Lavinia.
"What is the matter?" exclaimed Honoria. "Come to bed, my lady."
"I walked home," said the Countess. "How strange the city is at night! I beheld the dawn break behind St. James's Church."
"No one saw you?" asked the maid.
My lady shook her head.
"But you must tell them I was there."
"Ye talk madly! Why should I speak? It hath ended well; my lord lives."