When she had put off her riding-habit, she threw on a wrapper and lay down on the bed, for she was wearied, body and soul, and her limbs were beginning to remind her of her fall. It was chilly and she shivered, drawing up the quilt over her feet. The voices of two servants, a groom and a maid, babbled on by the ash-tree in the yard below; she could not distinguish anything they said, but the man’s tone predominated. They were making love, no doubt. Lady Eliza pressed her head into the pillow, and tried to shut out the sound. She was half asleep when someone tapped at the door, and, getting no answer, opened it softly. ‘Is it Cecilia?’ said she, sitting up. ‘My dearest aunt, are you asleep? Oh, I fear I have awakened you.’ The girl stood holding back the curtains. As she looked at the bed her lips trembled a little. ‘I have only this moment heard of your accident,’ she said. ‘I am not hurt, my dear, so don’t distress yourself.’ ‘Thank Heaven!’ exclaimed the other. ‘My patience, Cecilia, you are quite upset! What a little blockhead you are!’ For answer, Cecilia took Lady Eliza’s hand in both her own, and laid her cheek against it. She said nothing. ‘It must be almost supper-time,’ said the elder woman. ‘I will rise, for you will be waiting.’ ‘May I not bring something up to your room, ma’am? I think you should lie still in bed. I am very well alone.’ ‘Nonsense, child! Go downstairs, and let me get up. I suppose you think I am too old to take care of myself.’ Cecilia went out as she was bid, and took her way to the dining-room. Her face was a little troubled, for she saw that Lady Eliza was more shaken than she had been willing to admit, and she suspected the presence of some influence which she did not understand; for the two women, so widely removed in character and age, had so strong a bond of affection, that, while their minds could never meet on common ground, there was a sympathy between them apart from all individual bias.