Well--of course it was safer. Jelly could but acknowledge it, and recovered somewhat. She wished she had not seen--that--in the night. It was that sight, so unaccountable, that was now troubling her mind so strangely.
With her usual want of ceremony, Jelly opened the bedroom door and looked in. It had not been put straight: Phillis said her master would not let her go in to do anything to it until the two rooms should have been disinfected. Medicine bottles stood about; the bed-clothes lay over the foot of the bed, just as Hepburn's men must have placed them when they removed the dead. On the dressing-table lay a bow of blue ribbon that poor Bessy had worn in her gown the last day she had one on, a waistband with his buckle, and other trifles. Jelly began to feel oppressed, as if her breath were growing short, and came away hastily. Phillis stood on the landing beyond the sheet.
"It seems like a dream, Phillis."
"I wish we could awake and find it one," answered Phillis, practically, as she turned the key in the lock; and they went downstairs.
Not a minute too soon. Before they had well reached the kitchen, Dr. Rane's latch-key was heard.
"There's the master," cried Phillis under her breath, as he turned into his consulting-room. "It's a good thing he didn't find us up there."
"I want to say a word to him, Phillis; I think I'll go in," said Jelly, taking a sudden resolution to acquaint Dr. Rane with what she had seen. The truth was, her mind felt so unhinged, knowing not what to believe or disbelieve, that she thought she must speak, or die.
"Need you bother him now?--what's it about?" asked Phillis. "I'd let him get his breakfast first."
But Jelly went on to the consulting-room; and found herself very nearly knocked down by the doctor--who was turning quickly out of it. She asked if she could speak to him: he said Yes, if she made haste; but he wanted to catch Mr. Seeley before the latter went out.
"And your breakfast, sir?" called out Phillis in compassionate tones.