"I do not feel to want anything but sleep," said the lady. "I have not had any for many nights, and I am scarce awake now. If I could but close my eyes, and rest."
She raised them as she spoke to Wilton—such large, black-blue eyes, so heavy with fatigue, that his compassion for her evident exhaustion was naturally increased by the admiration they excited.
"You really ought to take something, if we could get it," he said. "Such a shock must have been too much for you, though you showed remarkable pluck."
"Yet I was dreadfully frightened," she replied, clasping her hands over one knee, and gazing dreamily into the fire. "I do not fear death so much as being hurt and helpless."
"Well," said Wilton, cheerfully, "we must find a resting-place for you. There ought to be a lady's waiting-room even here." He rose and looked about as he spoke. "And so there is"—he opened a door on the right of the fireplace—"a very desolate-looking chamber. Still there is an uneasy-looking stuffed bench, and perhaps, with my cloak and plaid, you might manage to get an hour's sleep while we are waiting."
"How good of you to think of all this!" she exclaimed, looking at him more attentively than she had yet done. "But it is dark—and see! the lock is broken. I do not think I should like to sleep with an open door."
"Let me light the gas," said Wilton, turning the stiff tap and striking one of his fusees. "Now the only objection is the broken lock. I will mount guard outside, and, trust me, no one shall intrude upon you. What do you say?"
"Many, many thanks. I will gladly lie down and try to sleep. Are you not weary?"
"Not in the least. I would advise your trying to compose yourself at once; the others will be here soon, and will probably talk and make a row. By-the-way," interrupting himself, "would you like to telegraph to your friends that you are all right? I am going to do so myself."
"Telegraph to my friends!" she replied, stopping and looking full at him, her large, dark, dewy eyes lighting up as a half-sad, half scornful smile dimpled her cheek. "It is not at all necessary; they will not distress themselves."