Already weak and ill, she was unable to
think, unable to shape her ideas, unable to tell right from
wrong.
She alone held the clew to the mystery, and she knelt by that
death bed with pale, parted lips and eyes full of terror. Her
face startled those who saw it. Her sorrow found no vent in
tears; the gentle eyes seemed changed into balls of fire; she
could not realize that it was Beatrice who lay there, so calm and
still--Beatrice, who had knelt at her feet and prayed that she
would save her--Beatrice, who had believed herself so near the
climax of her happiness.
Could she have met Hugh, and had he murdered her? Look where she
would, Lillian saw that question written in fiery letters. What
ought she to do? Must she tell Lord Earle, or did the promise
she had made bind her in death as well as in life. Nothing could
restore her sister. Ought she to tell all she knew, and to stain
in death the name that was honored and loved?
One of the doctors called in saw the face of Lillian Earle. He
went at once to Lady Helena, and told her that if the young lady
was not removed from that room, and kept quiet she would be in
danger of her life.
Pages:
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466