What a relief, what an unspeakable solace Maulevrier's presence would be
in that dreary house, smitten to a sudden and awful stillness, as if by
the Angel of Death!
'No, I do not want Maulevrier!' answered her ladyship impatiently.
'May I sit here and read to you, grandmother?' Mary asked, timidly. 'Mr.
Horton said you were to be kept very quiet, and that we were not to let
you talk, or talk much to you, but that we might read to you if you
like.'
'I do not wish to be read to. I have my thoughts for company,' said Lady
Maulevrier.
Mary felt that this implied a wish to be alone. She bent over the
invalid's pillow and kissed the pale cheek, feeling as if she were
taking a liberty in venturing so much. She would hardly have done it had
Lesbia been at home; but she had a feeling that in Lesbia's absence Lady
Maulevrier must want somebody's love--even hers. And then she crept
away, leaving Halcott the maid in attendance, sitting at her work at the
window furthest from the bed.
'Alone with my thoughts,' mused Lady Maulevrier, looking out at the
panorama of wintry hills, white, ghost-like against an iron sky.
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