But her voice? Could she control that too?
After she had sat motionless in the cold hall a minute or two, she
tested herself.
"He is dead," she said softly. "He is quite dead, and so are the others.
They--"
But she could not go on. Great shuddering seized on her; she shook from
head to foot....
Later that night Mrs. Manners awoke. She tried to move her head, but the
pain was shocking, and still half asleep, she moaned aloud.
Then the curtains moved softly, and she could see that a face was
looking at her.
"Margy! Is that you?"
"Yes, mother."
"Move my head; move my head. I cannot bear--"
She felt herself lifted gently and strongly. The struggle and the pain
exhausted her for a minute, and she lay breathing deeply. Then the ease
of the shifted position soothed her.
"I cannot see your face," she said. "Where is the light?"
The face disappeared, and immediately, through the curtains, the mother
saw the light. But still she could not see the girl's face. She said so
peevishly.
"It will weary your eyes. Lie still, mother, and go to sleep again."
"What time is it?"
"I do not know."
"Are you not in bed?"
"Not yet, mother."
The sick woman moaned again once or twice, but thought no more of it.
And presently the deep sleep of sickness came down on her again.
* * * * *
They rose early in those days in England; and soon after six o'clock, as
Janet had seen nothing of her young mistress, she opened the door of the
sleeping-room and peeped in.
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