"Your master has met with an accident, Jamison," Edith said calmly, ignoring the title. How oddly it sounded to her. "You had better have him conveyed to his room and send for a surgeon. And, if Lady Helena is in town—"
"Lady Helena is in town, my lady. Will—" Jamison hesitated, "will you not come in, my lady, and wait until her ladyship comes?"
Again for a moment Edith hesitated and thought. It would be necessary for some one to explain—she could not go away either without knowing whether the injury he had received were fatal or not, since that injury was received in her service. She set her lips and alighted.
"I will remain until Lady Helena arrives. Pray lose no time in sending for her."
"I will send immediately, my lady," answered Jamison respectfully.
"Thompson," to a waiter, "show this lady to a parlor at once."
And then Edith found herself following a gentlemanly sort of man in black, down a long hall, up a great staircase, along a carpeted corridor, and into an elegant private parlor. The man lit the gas and went, and then she was alone.
She sat down to think. What a strange adventure it had been. She had wished for her freedom—it seemed as though it were near at hand. She shuddered and shrank from herself.
"What a wretch I am," she thought; "what a vile creature I must be. If he dies, I shall feel as though I murdered him."
How long the hours and half hours, told off on the clock, seemed—eight, nine, ten,—would Lady Helena never come? It was a long way to St. John's Wood, but she might surely be here by this time. It was half past ten, and tired out thinking, tired out with her day's work, she had fallen into a sort of uneasy sleep and fitful dream in her chair when she suddenly became half conscious of some one near her. She had been dreaming of Sandypoint, of quarrelling with her cousin. "Don't Charley!" she said petulantly, aloud, and the sound of her own voice awoke her fully. She started up, bewildered for a second, and found herself face to face with Lady Helena. With Lady Helena, looking very pale and sorrowful, with tear-wet eyes and cheeks.
She had been watching Edith for the past five minutes silently and sadly. The girl's dream was pleasant, a half smile parted her lips. Then she had moved restlessly. "Don't Charley?" she said distinctly and awoke.