Lady Patricia.
Milk and cream.... (After a dreamy pause.) Yes, I am afraid so. But don’t put it on the table. Hide it in the summer-house. And will you send Baldwin to me?
Ellis.
Yes, my lady.
(He goes out.)
Lady Patricia.
(Turns over the pages of a MS., and then reads with thrilling beauty.)
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me,
Plant thou no roses at my head,