Exhausted by the emotions to which she had worked herself up by the force of her powerful imagination, Lady Delacour, after passing several restless hours in bed, fell asleep late in the morning; and when she awaked, Belinda was standing by her bedside. “What could you be dreaming of?” said Belinda, smiling. “You started, and looked at me with such horror, when you opened your eyes, as if I had been your evil genius.” It is not in human nature, thought Lady Delacour, suddenly overcome by the sweet smile and friendly tone of Belinda, it is not in human nature to be so treacherous; and she stretched out both her arms to Belinda, saying, “You my evil genius? No. My guardian angel, my dearest Belinda, kiss me, and forgive me.” “Forgive you for what?” said Belinda; “I believe you are dreaming still, and I am sorry to awaken you; but I am come to tell you a wonderful thing--that Lord Delacour is up, and dressed, and actually in the breakfast-room; and that he has been talking to me this half hour--of what do you think?--of Helena. He was quite surprised, he said, to see her grown such a fine girl, and he declares that he no longer regrets that she was not a boy; and he says that he will dine at home to-day, on purpose to drink Helena’s health in his new burgundy; and, in short, I never saw him in such good spirits, or so agreeable: I always thought he was one of the best-natured men I had ever seen. Will not you get up to breakfast? Lord Delacour has asked for you ten times within these five minutes.” “Indeed!” said Lady Delacour, rubbing her eyes. “All this is vastly wonderful; but I wish you had not awakened me so soon.” “Nay, nay,” said Belinda, “I know by the tone of your voice, that you do not mean what you say; I know you will get up, and come down to us directly--so I will send Marriott.”