"Bring lights," said Lady Hastings, addressing her maid; and the moment after, she raised the glass to her lips, and drank the contents.
"It tastes very odd, Emily," she said, "I think it must be spoiled by the heat of the room."
"Indeed," said Emily. "That is very strange. The last vial kept quite well. But Mr. Short will be here to-night, and we will make him send some more."
She paused for a moment or two, and then added, "Now, shall I go for my father?"
"No," said Lady Hastings, somewhat faintly; "wait till the girl comes back with the lights."
She was silent for a few moments, and then raised herself suddenly on her arm, saying in a tone of great alarm, "Emily, Emily! I feel very ill.—Good God, I feel very ill!"
Emily sprang to her side and threw her arm round her; but the next instant Lady Hastings uttered a fearful scream, like the cry of a sea-bird, and her head fell back upon her daughter's arm.
Emily rang the bell violently: ran to the door and shrieked loudly for aid; for she saw too well that her mother was dying.
The maid, several of the other servants, and Sir Philip Hastings himself, rushed into the room. Lights were brought: Mr. Short was sent for; but ere the servant had well passed the gates, Lady Hastings, after a few convulsive sobs, had yielded up her spirit.