“Can I see Philip?” she asked.
I have heard some insolent men say that women are like cats. If they mean that we do, figuratively speaking, scratch at times, I am afraid they are not altogether wrong. An irresistible impulse made me say to poor Euneece: “This is a change indeed, since you refused to receive Philip.”
“Is there no change in the circumstances?” she asked sadly. “Isn’t he ill and in danger?”
I begged her to forgive me; I said I meant no harm.
“I gave him up to my sister,” she continued, “when I believed that his happiness depended, not on me, but on her. I take him back to myself, when he is at the mercy of a demon who threatens his life. Come, Selina, let us go to Philip.”
She put her arm round me, and made me get up from my chair. I was so easily persuaded by her, that the fear of what Helena’s jealousy and Helena’s anger might do was scarcely present in my thoughts. The door of communication was locked on the side of the bedchamber. I went into the hall, to enter Philip’s room by the other door. She followed, waiting behind me. I heard what passed between them when Maria went out to her.
“Where is Miss Gracedieu?”
“Resting upstairs, miss, in her room.”
“Look at the clock, and tell me when you expect her to come down here.”
“I am to call her, miss, in ten minutes more.”