صفحة 686 من 1118

Lucy had just risen. She was endeavouring to collect her senses,

to separate the turbid visions of sleep from the remembrance of

the sad reality, which appeared to her a dismal dream, when the

old woman, in a voice which she meant to be humble and gentle,

said to her, "Ah! you have slept! You would have done better to

go to bed; I told you so a hundred times." Receiving no answer,

she continued, "Eat a little; you have need of something; if you

do not, he will complain of me when he returns."

"No, no, I wish to go to my mother. Your master promised me, he

said, to-morrow morning. Where is he?"

"He has gone away; but he left word that he would return soon,

and do all that you should desire."

"Did he say so? did he say so? Well; I wish to go to my mother,

now, now."

Suddenly they heard steps in the adjoining chamber, and a knock

at the door. The old woman demanded, "Who is there?"

"Open," replied the well-known voice.