"You seem quite done up," he observed. "You had better go to bed and to sleep. A good night's rest is what you want. To-morrow let us hope you will be more fit to take up your new duties."
She raised her wet eyes with a glance of incredulous gratitude. "I am sorry I gave way," she murmured. "I am not usually so weak. But you see, a great deal has happened ... and I hardly slept at all last night, and I am very tired." Slowly she stood up, eagerly but silently questioning him.
After a moment's embarrassment she held out her hand. He drew his own from his pocket to present in return. Half contemptuously, he threw a glance at the little girlish fingers lying in his square brown palm. "I'll give you another ring," he said brusquely, "but I couldn't stand seeing you wear that other. When we meet to-morrow morning, I hope you will be rested. Good night. Off with you."
She needed no second bidding.
CHAPTER XI
A FIRST EXPERIENCE
"Living alone in an empty house
Here half hid in the gleaming wood, ...
Till a morbid hate and horror have grown
Of a world in which I have hardly mixt,
And a morbid, eating lichen fixt
On a heart half turned to stone."—Tennyson.
It seemed to Virginia, as she let her limbs relax in the big, downy old bed, as though she never could sleep again. Somewhere in that silent house couched the Monster, as yet inert, but one day to awake, one day to rise before her as she cowered there chained to her rock. The very silence seemed full of breathings, the whispering of the trees outside her window was like a stealthy approach. How could sleep visit her? Yet youth exhausted will have its way, and she had not been laid to rest more than half an hour when she was in a profound and tranquil slumber, which lasted without a break until she was called next morning.
Grover had drawn back the curtains, and her room was full of sunshine. The maid brought her tea to the bedside, and smiled as though she could not help smiling at the angelic little face in its tumbled golden halo.