“Do you think so, mammy?”
“I knows hit, chile.”
Down-stairs, General and Mrs. Temple, with little Beverley and Judith, were all that were present around the table. Not yet even had Mrs. Temple begun to be alarmed about Jacqueline, who had not had a pain or an ache.
Jacqueline’s vacant chair struck Judith more painfully than usual. Scarcely had she taken her place at the table, when she saw Delilah peer in at the door, a queer, ashy tinge over her black face. Judith rose and went out quietly, Mrs. Temple looking surprised, but saying nothing. Judith, Mrs. Temple thought, coddled Jacqueline rather too much for her own good, so Kitty Sherrard and Dr. Wortley both said.
“Miss Judy,” whispered Delilah, “Miss Jacky is a-gwine—she done start on de road—”
Judith, without a word, flew up-stairs. Jacqueline lay, scarcely breathing, her face perfectly white, her dark and beautiful eyes wide open. Judith raised her up, Jacqueline protesting feebly.
“Judith, it is come! I feel it. I am not at all frightened. It was those cruel people at Mrs. Sherrard’s party—”
“Don’t—don’t say that, Jacqueline! You are only a little faint and discouraged. Here is Delilah coming.”
“Tell Throckmorton I tried to live until he came, but my breath won’t hold out any longer, and my heart has scarcely beat at all for a week, it seems to me.”