Things appeared to her all on a sudden, quite in a new character, as persons suddenly called on to leave life, see their own doings as they never beheld them before; so with a shock, and an awakening, tumbled about her the whole structure of her illusions, and a dreadful void with a black perspective for the first time opened round her. She did not return to the drawing-room. When Beatrix, fearing she might be ill, knocked at the door of the green chamber, and heard from the far extremity Lady Jane's clear voice call "Come in," she entered. She found her lying in her clothes, with the counterpane thrown partially over her, upon the funereal-looking old bed, whose dark green curtains depended nearly from the ceiling. "Well!" exclaimed Lady Jane, almost fiercely, rising to her elbow, and staring at Beatrix. "I--you told me to come in. I'm afraid I mistook." "Did I? I dare say. I thought it was my maid. I've got such a bad headache." "I'm very sorry. Can I do anything?" "No, Beatrix--no, thank you; it will go away of itself." "I wish so much, Lady Jane, you would allow me to do anything for you. I--I sometimes fear I have offended you. You seemed to like me, I thought, when I saw you this spring in London, and I've been trying to think how I have displeased you." "_Displeased_ me! _you_ displease _me_! Oh! Beatrix, Beatrix, dear, you don't know, you can never know. I--it is a feeling of disgust and despair. I hate myself, and I'm frightened and miserable, and I wish I dare cling to you." She looked for a moment as if she would have liked to embrace her, but she turned away and buried her face in her pillow. "Dear Lady Jane, you must not be so agitated. You certainly are not well," said Beatrix, close to the bedside, and really a good deal frightened. "Have you heard--I hope you have not--any ill news?" If Lady Jane had been dead she could not have seemed to hear her less. "I hope General Lennox is not ill?" inquired she timidly. "Ill? No--I don't know; he's very well. I hope he's very well. I hope he is; and--and I know what I wish for myself." Beatrix knew what her grandmamma thought of Lady Jane's violence and temper, and she began to think that something must have happened to ruffle it that evening. "I wish you'd go, dear, you _can_ do nothing for me," said Lady Jane, ungraciously, with a sudden and sombre change of manner. "Well, dear Lady Jane, if you think of anything I can do for you, pray send for me; by-and-by you might like me to come and read to you; and would you like me to send your maid?" "Oh! no--no, no, _no_--nothing--good-night," repeated Lady Jane, impatiently. So Beatrix departed, and Lady Jane remained alone in the vast chamber, much more alone than one would be in a smaller one. CHAPTER XXXII. Conciliation.