‘I have told them to be quick. They have taken Rocket.’
‘Oh—Rocket. I shall not see Rocket again. She was a good mare. But I must not think of that now; perhaps I have thought too much of horses.’
It was nearly an hour since her messenger had gone when Cecilia looked anxiously at the clock. The doctor had given Lady Eliza what stimulant she could swallow to keep her alive till Fullarton should come, and, though she could scarcely turn her head, her dying ears were listening for his step at the door. It came at last.
‘I am here, my lady,’ he whispered, as he took Cecilia’s place.
‘I have been wearying for you, Robert,’ she said, ‘it is time to say good-bye. You have been good to me.’
He slipped his arm under the pillow and raised her till her head leaned against his shoulder. She was past feeling pain. Instead of the wig she had always insisted upon wearing, a few light locks of her own grey hair strayed on her forehead from under the lace-edged scarf Cecilia had put round her, softening her face. She looked strangely young.
Robert could not speak.
‘Eliza——’ he began, but his voice broke.
‘Be good to Cecilia, Fullarton. My little girl—if I had done differently——’
Cecilia rose from her knees and leaned over Fullarton to kiss her.