She grew pale and thin and nervous, and all the time her heart longed for Keith—Keith with his tender dark eyes, and sweet, low voice, and caressing ways—Keith who would stand between her and all ill.
She kept herself as much as possible in the vicinity of the sick-room, and waylaid Mrs. Graves upon any and every available occasion with eager, anxious inquiries as to his condition, to all of which Mrs. Graves made reluctant replies.
It was evident that she did not at all approve of any ties of interest between her handsome young master and this girl with the sad, unfortunate history—her unguessed secret—the dark inheritance which hung over her like a deadly curse.
But the day came at last when Keith was able to make his way slowly and wearily down-stairs and into the drawing-room, where he sank upon a comfortable sofa before the fire and uttered a sigh of relief. Then his eyes wandered swiftly around the room, as though seeking some one.
"Where is Miss Dane?" he asked.
Mrs. Graves frowned.
"Up in her own room, to be sure!" she made answer; "and if you please, Mr. Keith, I rather think that Mr. Dane prefers that she should remain there."
"Remain there, indeed!" indignantly. "And pray what right has Mr. Dane or anybody else to attempt to imprison Miss Beatrix Dane, I should like to know?"
"Imprison? Oh, no, Mr. Keith!" The housekeeper's voice was full of eager protest. "But then, you see, there is something unusual about Miss Beatrix; there is something in her history—something, I do not really know what, but I can guess—and Mr. Dane thinks that she ought to be kept to herself somewhat, you see—not to make too free with the rest of the family."
"Bah! Nonsense! You are talking like an idiot, Graves. I—I beg your pardon, but I can't help it. A woman of your good, sound common sense ought to know better than to repeat such rubbish as that. Go tell Miss Dane that I am here, in the drawing-room, and ask her to please come to me, since I am not able to call upon her. I wish to speak with her as soon as possible. Do, that's a good soul. I know that you will not find it in your heart to refuse my request, Graves. You were young yourself once—not so very long ago."