Mildred sat musing by the fire for a little, then seeing it was the hour for giving the medicine, administered it—the invalid just rousing sufficiently to take it, and falling off into a heavy sleep again immediately—then returning to the outer room, found a book, seated herself near the light, and began to read.
She paused presently, and sat for a moment noting the death-like quiet that reigned within and without the dwelling, broken only by a faint sound of breathing from the next room and the ticking of the little wooden clock on the mantel.
But the fire needed replenishing. She attended to it with as little noise as possible, and returned to her book.
CHAPTER IV.
“And now in moodiness,
Being full of supper and distempering draughts,
Upon malicious bravery dost thou come
To start my quiet.”
—Shaks.: Othello.
Suddenly there came a sound as of a heavy body falling or being thrown against the outer door; then a hand fumbled at the lock, and a man’s voice said thickly, “Open hyar and let a fellar in, can’t ye?”