John, A Love Story; vol. 1 of 2Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
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John, A Love Story; vol. 1 of 2
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction; Love stories
“Where am I?” she said, faintly, in her great wonder; and then her
father came forward, and with tears in his eyes implored her not to
stir or speak. And there was another man who was dimly apparent to her,
holding her hand or her pulse or something; and at her feet a pair of
anxious, astonished eyes gazing at her, and somebody behind who was
sprinkling something fragrant over her head, and shedding the heavy
hair off her forehead. She had fainted, and yet somehow had escaped
being dead, as she ought to have been. Or was she dead, and were these
phantoms that were round her, moving so ghostly, speaking with their
voices miles off through the plaintive air? But she could not put the
question, though she was so curious. She could not move, though she was
the most active, restless little creature possible. All the bells of
all the country round were booming dully in her ears; or was it rather
a hive of bees that had clustered round her with dull, small, murmurous
trumpeting? The mist went and came across her eyes like clouds on the
sky, and every time it blew aside there was visible that pair of eyes.
Whom did they belong to? or were they only floating there in space,
with perhaps a pair of wings attached?--a hypothesis not inconsistent
with Kate’s sense that after all she might have died, for anything she
could say to the contrary. But the eyes were anxious, puckered up at
the corners, with a very intent, disturbed, eager look in them, such as
eyes could scarcely have in heaven.
“She will do now,” Kate heard some one say beside her; “let her be kept
quite quiet, and not allowed to speak--and you may continue the cold
compress on the head. I think it will be best to leave her quite alone
with Mrs Mitford. Quiet is of the first consequence. I shall come back
again in an hour and see how she is.”
“But, doctor,” said the anxious voice of Mr Crediton, “you don’t
think----”
“My dear sir, there is no use in thinking anything just now. I hope she
will be all right again this evening; but pray come with me, and leave
her quiet. At present we can do no good.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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