They bore her round, gently as might be, from the lawn into the yellow drawing-room, avoiding the steps of the colonnade, not daring to carry her up to the bed-chambers, and laid her on the costly, though somewhat old-fashioned and large sofa. What a sight she looked! the white face, the closed eyes, telling scarcely of life, and the red stains contrasting with the amber-velvet pillows. A groom went riding off to Odesque at full gallop--that is, as much of a gallop as French by-roads will allow--to bring back the Odesque doctor, the nearest medical man. He was also charged to send a telegraphic message to Belport for the French gentleman who had attended her in the spring; and he was requested to bring with him an English physician.
How prone are we to cheat ourselves! that is, to try to cheat ourselves. Signor de Castella, the first shock past, affected to talk cheerfully--cheerfully for him--of its being only a little vessel that had given way on the chest, not the lungs. Adeline lay on the sofa, passive. She was quite conscious, fully awake to all that was passing around her; as might be seen by the occasional opening of the eyes. Madame de Castella, really ill, as these impressionable natures are apt to be, was in her room, falling from one fainting-fit into another. Madame de Beaufoy sat with her; and the Signor, a most devoted husband, made repeated pilgrimages to the chamber. The poor old lady had taken one look at Adeline, and been led away by her maid, wringing her hands in shuddering dismay. So that in point of fact the yellow drawing-room was left very much to the two sympathizing, but terrified young ladies, the upper women-servants, and Aunt Agnes. As she lay there, poor child, the angry indignation cast upon her ever since the previous night calmed down. Better perhaps that they had let her go to her runaway wedding. It would not have much mattered either way: a loving bride, or a disappointed, unhappy girl, life for her could not last very long. How far the sense of shame, so ripe in her mind for the last few hours, had contributed its quota to the attack, will never be known. The most indignant of them all had been Agnes de Beaufoy; and she could not quite recover it yet.
Adeline turned her head as Rose was passing near her. "Am I dying?" she asked.
"Oh, Adeline, you must not speak!" was Rose's startled rejoinder. "The doctor will be here soon. Dying! of course you are not."
"Where's papa?"
"Pray don't attempt to speak! He was here a minute or two ago: he will be here again."
"Rose," came the soft whisper, in spite of the injunction, "I think I am dying. I should like to see Frederick St. John. Only for a minute, tell him."
Rose, consulting no one, penned a hasty note to Mr. St. John, her tears dropping all the time: she also thought death was at hand. It was written in her own rather wild fashion, but was clear and peremptory. Louise was called out of the yellow drawing-room and despatched with it. And the time passed slowly on.
The most perfect quiet, both of mind and body, was essential for Adeline; yet there she lay, evidently anxious, inwardly restless, her eyes seeking the door, expecting the appearance of Mr. St. John. But he did not come; neither did Louise. Had Rose done well to pen that note? Adeline was exhausted and silent, but not the less excited.
In came Louise at last, looking, as usual, fiery hot, her black eyes round and sparkling. Her proper course would have been to call Rose from the room; but she stalked direct into the presence of Adeline, bringing her news. It happened that none of the elders were in the room at the moment: Signor de Castella had again gone to his wife's chamber; and Miss de Beaufoy was outside the large entrance-door, looking in her impatience for signs of the doctor from Odesque. Louise had made haste to Madame Baret's and back, as desired, and came in at once, without waiting even to remove her gloves, the only addition (except the parapluie rouge) necessary to render her home-costume a walking one. What would an English lady's-maid say to that? In her hand she bore a packet, or very thick letter, for Adeline, directed and sealed by Mr. St. John. Adeline followed it with her eyes, as Rose took it from Louise.