CHAPTER LI.
“JUST ONE KISS!”
“Oh, we hope not!” they answered, soothingly, and raised her gently, placing her on a soft couch by the window, where the summer breeze could caress her pale brow.
“Oh, how I have prayed and prayed for some one to come,” she continued. “Ever since midnight I have lain here fainting and reviving, fainting and reviving, too weak to rise, and longing for water to cool my parched throat. Oh, thank you, thank you, how sweet and cool it is! Oh, what a wretched day! When I heard your steps and voices coming, I fainted from pure joy!”
She did not seem surprised at their coming. Perhaps she guessed in some way at the reason.
Beresford stooped over her with anguish in his eyes.
“I must ask you one question,” he cried, “and as you hope for Heaven, if you die, I implore you, answer it truly. Is Florence Fane in this house?”
“She is not. That is true,” answered Maybelle, growing paler at this reminder of her successful rival.
“Where is she, then? Do you know?”
“I swear I do not know,” she replied, faintly, and he read truth in her beautiful eyes.