She opened her eyes, and a smile broke over her face when she perceived her nurse. But Margaret did not yet speak to her. Every nurse should remember that waking ought always to be a gradual operation; and, except in the most triumphant health, is never complete on the opening of the eyes. “Margaret, I am better,” said Lady Emily, at last. “I am very glad, my lady.” “I have been lying awake for some time, and I am sure I am better. I don’t see strange-coloured figures floating about the room as I did yesterday. Were you not out of the room a few minutes ago?” “Just for one moment, my lady.” “I knew it. But I did not mind it. Yesterday, when you left me, those figures grew ten times as many, the moment you were gone. But you will stay with me to-day, too, Margaret?” she added, with some anxiety. “I will, if you find you need me. But I may be forced to leave you a little while this evening—you must try to allow me this, dear Lady Emily.” “Of course I will. I will be quite patient, I promise you, whatever comes to me.” When Harry woke, after a very troubled sleep, from which he had often started with sudden cries of terror, Hugh made him promise not to increase the confusion of the household, by speaking of what he had seen. Harry promised at once, but begged in his turn that Hugh would not leave him all day. It did not need the pale scared face of his pupil to enforce the request; for Hugh was already anxious lest the fright the boy had had, should exercise a permanently deleterious effect on his constitution. Therefore he hardly let him out of his sight. But although Harry kept his word, the cloud of perturbation gathered thicker in the kitchen and the servants’ hall. Nothing came to the ears of their master and mistress; but gloomy looks, sudden starts, and sidelong glances of fear, indicated the prevailing character of the feelings of the household. And although Lady Emily was not so ill, she had not yet taken a decided turn for the better, but appeared to suffer from some kind of low fever. The medical man who was called in, confessed to Mrs. Elton, that as yet he could say nothing very decided about her condition, but recommended great quiet and careful nursing. Margaret scarcely left her room, and the invalid showed far more than the ordinary degree of dependence upon her nurse. In her relation to her, she was more like a child than an invalid. About noon she was better. She called Margaret and said to her: “Margaret, dear, I should like to tell you one thing that annoys me very much.” “What is it, dear Lady Emily?”