The young man had hardly ever been in a sick room before. He half
expected to see Lady Maulevrier in bed, with a crowd of medicine bottles
and a cut orange on a table by her side, and a sick nurse of the
ancient-crone species cowering over the fire. It was an infinite relief
to him to find his grandmother lying on a sofa by the fire in her pretty
morning room. A little tea-table was drawn close up to her sofa, and she
was taking her afternoon tea. It was rather painful to see her lifting
her tea-cup slowly and carefully with her left hand, but that was all.
The dark eyes still flashed with the old eagle glance, the lines of the
lips were as proud and firm as ever. All sign of contraction or
distortion had passed away. In hours of calm her ladyship's beauty was
unimpaired; but with any strong emotion there came a convulsive working
of the features, and the face was momentarily drawn and distorted, as it
had been at the time of the seizure.
Maulevrier's presence had not an unduly agitating effect on her
ladyship. She received him with tranquil graciousness, and thanked him
for his coming.
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