“Yes, dear, I know that you have done something kind, and like you. I want to hear, I do indeed, but I can’t somehow, understand properly—my brain seems clouded....”
“Have you been taking things—morphia?” asked Egidia, sternly, as the suspicion crossed her mind.
“Morphia—no,” Mrs. Elles answered, with a wan smile. “Surely morphia is no good—it is only temporary in its effects, isn’t it?”
“Morphia, only temporary? Do please explain what you mean?”
“Dear Egidia,” the other woman said appealingly, “do you mind waiting till Edmund comes? I have sent for him, and then you will know all. He is sure to be here directly.”
“Mr. Rivers won’t be such a fool as to come to this house, I should hope!” Egidia exclaimed angrily, and her use of the formal prefix alone showed how angry she was. “He knows what a piece of folly that would be, even if you don’t!”
“He will come this time, Egidia. Don’t be cross with me, or you will perhaps be sorry afterwards. Egidia, I want to thank you—I want you to forgive me for all the trouble I have caused you—the annoyance I have subjected you to. And I know you have done your best for me—about Jane Anne Cawthorne, I mean—but—but I have settled it another and a shorter way, you see.... Edmund!——”
She rose from her sofa as Rivers came in, and it was then that the sceptical Egidia noticed for the first time how weak she seemed to be, and realised that it was not all acting, and that the young woman had really gone through some veritable emotion. She looked as if a mighty wind had blown her, tossed her, and had scattered all her energies.
“Edmund!” she was saying, in a faint voice, her fingers clutching the lapel of his coat. “Edmund! You did come! I knew you would. And I don’t mind now—Dying is the only way to make you nice to me.”
“You should not have come here,” said Egidia to Edmund, quite violently, in her anger and bewilderment. Even now, she found it quite impossible to take Phœbe Elles seriously; she had cried “Wolf” so often, that the very accents and circumstance of tragedy in her connection inevitably suggested farce, or at any rate drawing-room comedy.