I will tell you one of
these days what, I am going to do. There! don't say a word. I
want no advice on _such_ things. Go along, and send Mewks."
With all his suspicion of the man, Mr. Redmain did not suspect
_how_ false Mewks was: he did not know that Miss Yolland had
bewitched him for the sake of having an ally in the enemy's camp.
All he could hear--and the dressing-room door was handy--the
fellow duly reported to her. Already, instructed by her fears,
she had almost divined what Mr. Redmain meant to do.
Mary went and sat on the lowest step of the stair just outside
the room.
"What are you doing there?" said Lady Margaret, coming from the
corridor.
"Mr. Redmain will not have me go yet, my lady," answered Mary,
rising. "I must wait first till he sends for me."
Lady Margaret swept past her, murmuring, "Most peculiar!" Mary
sat down again.
In about an hour, Mewks came and said his master wanted her.
He was very ill, and could not talk, but he would not let her go.
He made her sit where he could see her, and now and then
stretched out his hand to her. Even in his pain he showed a
quieter spirit. "Something may be working--who can tell!" thought
Mary.
It was late in the afternoon when at length he sought further
conversation.
"I have been thinking, Mary," he said, "that if I do wake up in
hell when I die, no matter how much I deserve it, nobody will be
the better for it, and I shall be all the worse.
Pages:
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586