Her face was as that of one upon
whom some awful doom has fallen; her breath was coming painfully; and she
kneeled down on the carpet and clasped her children to her beating heart
with an action of wild despair.
"Oh, my boy! my boy! Oh, my little Maude!"
Suddenly she heard her husband's step approaching, and pushing them
from her, rose and stood at the window, apparently looking out on the
darkening world.
Lord Hartledon came in, gaily and cheerily, his manner lighter than it
had been for years.
"Well, Maude, I have not been long, you see. Why don't you have lights?"
She did not answer: only stared straight out. Her husband approached her.
"What are you looking at, Maude?"
"Nothing," she answered: "my head aches. I think I shall lie down until
dinner-time. Eddie, open the door, and call Nurse, as loud as you can
call."
The little boy obeyed, and the nurse returned, and was ordered to take
the children. Lady Hartledon was following them to go to her own room,
when she fell into a chair and went off in a dead faint.
"It's that excitement," said Val. "I do wish Maude would be reasonable!"
The illness, however, appeared to be more serious than an ordinary
fainting-fit; and Lord Hartledon, remembering the suspicion of
heart-disease, sent for the family doctor Sir Alexander Pepps, an
oracle in the fashionable world.
A different result showed itself--equally caused by excitement--and the
countess-dowager arrived in a day or two in hot haste.
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