“Yes; I passed the evening with them most amicably. The girl is wonderfully good-looking; and she has got rid of that shy, half-furtive way she had formerly, and looks at one steadfastly, and with such a pair of eyes too! I had no notion she was so beautiful.” “Were they cordial in manner,--friendly?” “I suppose they were. Dr. Lendrick was embarrassed and timid, and with that fidgety uneasiness as if he wanted to be anywhere else than where he was; but she was affable enough,--asked affectionately about you and the children, and hoped to see you to-morrow.” She made no reply, but, hastening her steps, walked on till she entered the house, when, passing into a small room off the hall, she threw off her bonnet, and, with a deep-drawn sigh, said, “I am dead tired; get me some water.” “You had better have wine.” “No, water. I am feverish. My head is throbbing painfully.” “You want food and support. Come into the dining-room and eat something. I 'll keep you company, too, for I could n't eat while those people were here. I felt, all the time, that they had come to turn us out; and, indeed, Beat-tie, with a delicate tact quite his own, half avowed it, as he said, 'It is a pity there is not light enough for you to see your old flower-garden, Lucy, for I know you are impatient to be back in it again.'” “I 'll try and eat something,” said Mrs. Sewell, rising, and with weary steps moving into the dining-room. Sewell placed a chair for her at the table, helped her, and filled her glass, and, telling the servant that he need not wait, sat down opposite her. “From what Beattie said I gather,” said he, “that the Chief is out of danger, the crisis of the attack is over, and he has only to be cautious to come through. Is n't it like our luck?” “Hush!--take care.” “No fear. They can't hear even when they try; these double doors puzzle them. You are not eating.” “I cannot eat; give me another glass of wine.” “Yes, that will do you good; it's the old thirty-four. I took it out in honor of Lendrick, but he is a water-drinker. I 'm sure I wish Beattie were. I grudged the rascal every glass of that glorious claret which he threw down with such gusto, telling me the while that it was infinitely finer than when he last tasted it.” “I feel better now, but I want rest and sleep. You can wait for all I have to tell you till to-morrow,--can't you?” “If I must, there 's no help for it; but considering that my whole future in a measure hangs upon it, I 'd rather hear it now.” “I am well nigh worn out,” said she, plaintively; and she held out her glass to be filled once more; “but I 'll try and tell you.”