WYLDER'S HAJVD.
149
Suddenly she hurried by him, and in a moment was in
the little kitchen, with its fire and candle burning cheer-
ily. Stanley Lake was at her shoulder as she entered,
and both were white with agitation.
Old Tamar rose up affrighted, her stiff arms raised, and
uttered a blessing. She did not know what to make of it.
Rachel sat down upon one of the kitchen chairs, scarce
knowing what she did, and Stanley Lake halted near the
threshold — gazing for a moment as wildly as she, with
the ghost of his sly smile on his smooth, cadaverous face.
"What ails her — is she ill, Master Stanley ?" asked
the old woman, returning with her white eyes the young
man's strange yellow glare.
"I — I don't know — maybe — give her some water,"
said Lake.
"Glass of water — quick, child," cried old Tamar to
Margery.
"Put it on the table," said Rachel, collected now, but
pale, and somewhat stern.
"And now, Stanley, dear," said she, for just then she
was past caring for the presence of the servants "I hope
we understand one another — at least that you do me. If
not, it is not for want of distinctness on my part; and I
think you had better leave me for the present, for, to say
truth, I do not feel very well."
"Good-night, Radie — good-night, old Tamar. I hope,
Radie, you'll be better — every way — when next I see
you. Good-night."